Cat & Mouse
by D. melanogaster
Summary: When Harry Potter's doorbell rang in the middle of the night, he had no idea that it was an invitation to a game of cat and mouse. Perhaps, if he had known, he wouldn't have opened the door and let her in.
1. Chapter 1: Addicted

Chapter 1 – Addicted

Harry Potter's best friends would say that he was addicted to many things. Ron Weasley would say he was addicted to his morning routine. Harry got up, let the post-owls in, took a shower and had breakfast. Every morning it was the same – it was nothing big, but if something got in the way and he had to skip the thing, he was liable to be very grouchy for the rest of the day. Or so Ron would say.

Ron would also say that Harry was addicted to work. It was common knowledge in the Ministry of Magic by now that Harry Potter was a workaholic. If one paid attention, it would be quite easy to notice that indeed, there was only one day in the week when Harry Potter could not be seen in the Ministry during the day. And that was Sunday, when the Ministry was closed to everyone but the Magical Law Enforcement – therefore, anyone paying attention to Harry's goings wouldn't be there. Harry actually did spend most Sundays in his office, finishing incomplete projects, writing reports and waiting for something interesting to come up.

Ron kept telling him that it was unhealthy. Ron could have been right, but Harry considered the alternative considerably more dangerous to both his health and his sanity.

Hermione Weasley, Harry's surrogate sister and Ron's wife, would say that Harry was addicted to danger. She would, on the same breath, say that he was also addicted to hurting himself emotionally and to getting himself so mixed up he needed to ask her which way was up. i_But to each their own./i_ She was very fond of telling him that. If he had to do it, she would help him sort himself out when he was done with his thing.

Something he definitely got no pleasure from was an abrupt, noisy awakening. He absolutely loathed those, actually. That was one of the reasons why the sound of the doorbell ringing in the middle of the night had upset him so. He was sitting up in his bed, now wide awake, his wand tightly in his grasp, panting and trying to get his head straight. The noise had caught him unawares, and after just being ambushed in what was supposed to be a routine raid yesterday, he had already been on edge. Harry cursed as he realised he had just hexed the mirror on the wall opposite his bed. His mutterings got a shade darker as the doorbell rang again.

With a deep sigh, Harry slowly got to his feet, repairing the shattered mirror with a lazy flick of his wand. Being an Auror had made him quite paranoid, and the piercing sound of the doorbell suddenly disrupting his slumber had been enough to shock him into action.

After glancing at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand, Harry cursed again – it was 4 o'clock in the bloody morning. If he hadn't been peacefully asleep just moments before, he might have been curious; no one he knew would bother to ring the doorbell, even in the middle of the night like now. Then again, no one he knew would voluntarily visit him at this time of the night.

The doorbell rang for the third time, and Harry finally started walking, putting on the lights as he went. The floor felt uncomfortably cold under his feet, and he found himself wishing he had just silenced the source of the noise and gone back to sleep. When he reached the door he realised he hadn't even thought of putting on a shirt – he usually slept topless, a habit he had acquired about a year after he had moved to this flat. Sighing again, Harry finally opened the door, knowing it would be quite rude to just go get a shirt and then get back.

When he recognised the person behind his door, he immediately regretted his decision. He should've fetched a shirt. He should've taken a shower, combed his hair and maybe picked up a girlfriend somewhere. Half awake, his hair even messier than usually, wearing nothing but a pair of old pyjama bottoms wasn't the way to greet _her._ Not to mention he was a mess otherwise: he knew he was pale, and there was a rather deep, only half-healed vertical gash from his chest to his stomach.

She seemed almost as surprised to see the state he was in as he was to see her. She had made herself scarce for the last two years, but he could still read her expressions and body-language like an open book. She was very tense, and looked a little ill in his opinion: her vibrant red hair was hanging limply in a loose ponytail, her skin was so pale it was nearly white and there were dark circles under her sad eyes.

Preparing himself for a long conversation, he wordlessly stepped aside to let her in. She slipped past him quietly, taking off her coat and hanging it in the closet almost reflexively. It still was the same closet in the same place, so it might have really been a reflex, Harry mused. She led the way to the kitchen, apparently comfortable walking around without directions.

Of course, she didn't need directions – she had practically lived there with him for two years. She didn't ask where Harry was going when he took a detour to his bedroom to pick up a T-shirt, just sat patiently in the kitchen, nervously fingering the charm of her necklace. When Harry sat down opposite her, he realised it was a necklace he had given her for her birthday almost two years ago. He had bought her a ring that same Autumn; it was still stored in his drawer. The chance to give it to her had come and gone long ago, but he hadn't had the heart to get rid of it yet.

"I'm sorry I came so early. I didn't wake you up, did I?" she asked quietly. The look in her eyes was still slightly frightened. It worried Harry; she wasn't one to get scared easily.

"Ginny – it's four AM. Everyone's asleep right now," he told her shortly. She flinched at his words. Harry stared at her thoughtfully – this wasn't the Ginny Weasley he had known and loved. She would have made a smart comeback, or glared at him, not flinched. Something was seriously wrong.

"You're right, it's too early. I'm really, really sorry, I shouldn't have come. Ron was right. You'd have to be insane." Her words were merely a whisper now, and it seemed to Harry that she was almost talking to herself. She was already getting up, but a look from Harry stopped her.

"You don't just wake people up in the middle of the night to tell them it's too early to come for a chat. Sit down and tell me why you're here," he said. He wasn't very friendly, but he wasn't unkind either. Something about his words seemed to encourage her, for she sat back down and glanced around.

"You wouldn't happen to have any tea, would you? It's a long story." Harry immediately got up to make her some, knowing Ginny only asked for tea before important, serious conversations. He should know – he had had talks with her around this very same table for what now seemed like a thousand times, and she had only wanted to have tea while they talked once. One single bloody time, and they hadn't talked after that for two years. Not until now.

If this was going to be anything like that time, he would need to compose himself. The time it took to make tea was perfect for that – he had a feeling Ginny had found that out, as well, because when he sat back down, two mugs full of Earl Grey in hand, she looked slightly calmer than she had before. He handed her one of the mugs and she took it, smiling very slightly as her hand touched his. Harry tried to keep his face straight at her reaction, but he couldn't help frowning slightly. Just what was going on with her?

"Thank you, Harry." She sipped on her steaming tea and smiled hesitantly at him. "Again, I'm really sorry to come in the middle of the night, but I didn't have much choice. I visited Ron and Hermione earlier, but they can't help me. They tried, but they just couldn't figure it out."

That brought Harry up short – if Ron and Hermione couldn't help her, why had she come to him? Hermione Weasley was still the brightest witch Harry knew, and he knew many bright witches. Ron was almost as good an Auror as Harry was. If they couldn't help Ginny, Harry highly doubted he would be of any use to her.

"Why did you come to me? They should've told you..." Harry's words were cut off by Ginny's deep sigh.

"Ron thought that you'd have to be insane to help me with anything anymore, at first, and he told me as much. But after they'd tried to make some sense of the stuff I told them, he told me to come to you. He was sure you'd know what's going on," she told him, sounding very tired. The desperate look she shot him was enough to shock Harry into mentally promising himself he'd help her. The Ginny Weasley he had known had _never_ looked so desperate. "Please, _please_, Harry, hear me out. Don't say no before you know what it's about."

"I'll listen to you, and I'll do my best to help you, but only if there's something I can do, all right? I'm not promising anything. If Ron and Hermione were helpless, well... I don't know how much I can do for you." Ginny sighed again as Harry stopped talking, this time in relief. She smiled to him gratefully. It was only a ghost of the radiant smile that he knew, but it was enough to make him forget what he had been thinking about earlier.

Harry idly wondered what he had gotten himself into as he tore his eyes away from her, glancing around the room in an act of random paranoia. He didn't like being thrown off balance, and that was the effect Ginny had on him – being confused served no higher purpose, yesterday had proved that. Losing composure even for a second earned you a short stay in St Mungo's and some time off of work to get yourself back to full health.

And now, he had just as good as promised Ginny that he'd help her, and if a smile from her could make him lose his train of thought... Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, after all. He wouldn't be able to concentrate around her. Instinct and experience told him that it wouldn't be a good thing.

"Thank you. Not everyone would have let me in... with our history and all..." Ginny was sincerely thankful, but her words only increased Harry's discomfort. He really didn't want to discuss their history right now, he was distracted enough as it was.

"Let's not talk about that, OK?" he asked her brusquely. "Tell me why you need my help."

"Right. Sorry. Do you still follow Quidditch?" Ginny's question confused Harry even further, but it wasn't hard to hide it behind irritation – he didn't like riddles this early in the morning.

"Is the sky still blue?" She snorted at his answer, but he could see some honest amusement in her eyes.

"That was a stupid question, I know. Have you noticed I've been on the reserves after Christmas?"

Ginny had been playing Quidditch ever since she got out of Hogwarts. She was an outstanding Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, and she had used to try to coerce him into changing careers every summer when a few teams persistently contacted him. He had never agreed, wanting to do something that felt more important to him. Flying was fun, and if she wanted to do it for a living it was fine with him, but he had always wanted to be an Auror, and so an Auror he would be.

"Yes, I've noticed. Ron mentioned you were injured in a practice a few days before Christmas, I didn't ask for details," he replied, absently shaking his head, trying to get rid of the memories for now. Ginny and he had talked about those things years ago. Those years weren't coming back, so thinking about them was fairly useless.

"Ron was right, I was injured. I was first hit by a Bludger, then I fell about fifty feet to the stands. It doesn't sound like anything unusual for Quidditch, except for the Bludger had been hexed to follow me. And I didn't fall off my broom – it just stopped working," Ginny told him. Harry instinctively sat up straighter, his curiosity stirring. The memories of times long gone were wiped out of his head immediately – all ties to Ginny put aside, this was beginning to sound like a very interesting case.

"A little after that, I started getting really weird letters. Someone really didn't want me to play. I got all sorts of threats, there were more weird accidents with the equipment... Finally I asked the team's management to put me to the reserves before someone got seriously hurt.

"They tried to find whoever was behind it with some 'experts', but it was no use – none of those people knew what they were doing. The threats stopped when it was announced that I wouldn't play for the rest of the season. I was fine with that, since I really needed a holiday at that point. But then, a few weeks back, I started getting those letters again."

Ginny was getting tenser again. Harry could see it in her face, and in her movements as she paused to take another sip from her tea. All the stress evident on her face made her look a lot older to him – but then again, she had just turned twenty when he had really seen her last. She was a few months shy of twenty-two now, so it was only natural that she looked older. Maybe it wasn't just the stress.

For some reason, this thought saddened Harry.

"This time, they had nothing to do with Quidditch. The first of those said that I should take a walk in the Hyde Park that Saturday, from three to four, or something nasty would happen," Ginny continued her story. "At first, I thought it was a joke – a rather sick joke, but nothing I needed to take seriously. Then I found my cat dead outside the door of my flat."

"Wait – your cat? The little kitten I gave you?" Harry asked, startled. Ginny nodded. Her expression confused Harry slightly. She was smiling – very faintly, but definitely smiling – and at the same time, there were tears in her eyes.

"Except Sparkles wasn't really a little kitten anymore. He was almost the size of Crookshanks, actually," she told him quietly. Harry took a deep breath to compose himself again.

The cat hadn't been his, and he hadn't seen Sparkles in two years, but he had been very fond of the creature when it had lived in his flat. The thing had reminded him of Hedwig – its eyes had been the same colour Hedwig's eyes were; rather unusual for a cat, and the main reason Harry had bought it for Ginny. She had named it Sparkles, not because it was particularly sparkly by nature or in appearance, but because she claimed Harry's eyes sparkled when the kitten looked at him.

Ginny had wanted to leave it with him, but he had told her he wouldn't have time to take care of it. He would be busy with work, he had said. He hadn't really even missed the cat before now, but he was sad it was dead.

"Yeah, he would've grown in two years. Go on," Harry said as he noticed Ginny was staring at him worriedly.

"I was upset, and I wanted to know what had killed him, so I took him to a vet. The bloke told me that there was no poison in his system, no disease, nothing. Sparkles was healthy and as far as the veterinarian was concerned, the cat should've lived for years. There was no cause of death to be found," Ginny went on. Harry felt all colour draining from his face.

"Don't tell me the vet's a Muggle. Someone used Avada Kedavra on your cat?" he asked her, his throat suddenly dry. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but Ginny was definitely in big trouble. As she nodded to confirm Harry's suspicions, he cursed under his breath.

"And there's more. There were other oddities because I never did anything they asked me to, but nothing as big as killing the cat. Mostly they were harmless, irritating things, like orders done on my name for the weirdest of things and a few letters to my brothers and my parents. But yesterday, I got the worst one by far." Ginny took a deep breath and stared at Harry, looking scared again. Something told Harry that he would be better off not knowing; his instincts screamed at him to stop the conversation there before it got weirder and go back to sleep, but he asked anyway.

"What was it?"

Ginny cringed at his question and buried her face in her hands. She muttered something, but whatever she said was muffled by her hands.

"I can't hear you, Gin, you know that." Harry felt like banging his head on the table as Ginny's head snapped up and her eyes locked to his. He really shouldn't have used that old nickname. He wasn't about to apologise, however.

"The letter said they'd target you if I didn't visit George at the shop by noon," she whispered finally. Harry gulped again. They had received an anonymous tip at the Auror office at half past twelve, telling of Death Eater activity on a house on the outskirts of London. Harry and Ron had been sent to investigate. Harry had opened the door, stepped in, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in St Mungo's a few hours later with a deep wound from his chest to his stomach with no recollection of the events after he left the office.

Ron had told him that almost as soon as the door had cracked open, a curse had hit him, sending him flying backwards a flight of stairs. The Healers had said he was lucky not to have broken his neck, and that they were fairly certain that the poor attempt to gut him like a fish would leave no permanent scars. Whoever had attacked him had left before Ron had even seen who it was.

"I'm assuming you didn't go to Diagon Alley," Harry stated dryly, taking in what Ginny was telling him. He didn't really know whether to be angry, sad or both because she had gambled with his life like that. He settled for calm, for the time being.

"No, Harry. I went to the shop. I did what they asked me to do, and still, when I went to visit Mum and Dad at the Burrow after that, my mother was practically hysterical because you had nearly died. Or at least, Ron had told her you were very lucky to be still alive. Apparently, whatever did that to you," Ginny gestured vaguely to his stomach, "would have been lethal if it had hit you a little higher.

"I'm so, so sorry, Harry. It's all my fault you were attacked. You'll be all right, won't you? It won't leave a scar, right?" She seemed honestly worried for his safety and very concerned about his wellbeing – it was the first hint of the old Ginny he had seen so far, and he remembered just how very much he missed her. He shook his head slightly, angry with himself – he should've just stayed in bed. This was hopeless. He wouldn't be able to help her, not with their history.

"No, it shouldn't leave a scar. I'm fine, don't worry about me," he told her. "Was that all or is there more?"

"Well, there is one other odd thing," Ginny said slowly. "The letters. They never came by owls. They just... appeared. Like the last one – I woke up, walked to the kitchen to let the post owls in, went through the post and put it on the table. I left to take a shower and got dressed, and when I came back, the letter was on the counter. I'm sure it didn't come with the rest of the mail, and even if it had, I certainly hadn't left it there."

Harry groaned audibly, earning a worried glance from Ginny.

"Right. With the wards you have up – if you haven't changed them – it means that someone came into your flat, put the letter there, and either left or still is there. Either way, it's not safe in there anymore." Ginny was staring at him in shock when he finished, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but you're not going back there without Aurors. You can stay here, you can go to the Burrow, or you can live with Ron and Hermione, but you can't go back there. It looks like whoever you've pissed off isn't fooling around, and for as long as we don't know how they got in, they can do it again," Harry continued. "I can go with you later today to get some of your things, but after that, you need to stay away from there."

"OK, I can do that. Can you make any sense of any of this? I have no idea what these people want from me or what I might've done to get anyone after me, much less who might be doing this," Ginny told him, looking and sounding very desperate. But in his opinion, she'd have to be rather desperate to come to ask him for help after she had avoided him like the plague for so long. He knew her, her pride and her stubborn nature; she wouldn't have come to him if she could have avoided it.

"Well, it's a little too early in the morning for rational thinking, but I got the feeling they've been testing you," Harry started slowly. "They wanted to see how far they had to go before you would co-operate. They started big, with bodily harm to you and your team mates, but nothing too serious yet. You pulled out, but they couldn't be sure why you did it – were you scared or just tired? Did they get to you or did you just need a break?"

Harry sighed again, taking a sip of his tea, his mind reeling. He didn't like the direction his thoughts were heading to.

"So they gave it a rest, waited while you had your holiday, and then they struck again. You didn't do what they asked you to, and they killed your cat. You still wouldn't do what they wanted you to, so they... What was it? Sent letters to your family?" Ginny only nodded in response.

"I'm not sure what they were going for with that, but they've proven they know where to find your brothers and parents. And apparently, they know a lot about you – they knew you had a cat, they know the people you're close to, and enough other stuff to order things on your name. They let you know this; maybe they didn't mean to, or maybe you just didn't think of it, but it was definitely a big thing after they'd used Avada Kedavra on your cat and proven that they're certainly serious.

"They practically threatened your family, but you still didn't do as they asked. And then they went after me. That got you moving," Harry tiredly rubbed his eyes, holding his glasses up with his other hand. "So now whatever you actually think of me doesn't matter – they think I'm one of your weaknesses. That makes me a very useful bargaining tool for them. Maybe your entire family is in danger, or then it's just me. We'll just have to wait and see."

"I've already dragged you into this mess permanently?" Ginny's skin was developing a greenish tinge, and she looked ready to pass out as Harry nodded.

"It looks like it. Mind you, I don't know how much of this is actually true and how much I'm guessing, and even if I'm right, well... You didn't do it on purpose. You went to see George because you wanted to keep me out of it. Besides, I've dragged you into a few tough spots along the years. You're just... evening the score. I don't really mind." Ginny chuckled, staring into Harry's eyes, smiling slightly.

"You're still a lousy liar, Harry. You _do_ mind. And we were already even – you hardly ever put me in any kind of danger, and when you did, I had to practically fight my way in. I always volunteered. I should've come to you earlier, I shouldn't have just blindly believed that they'd leave you alone," she muttered. "I was so stupid."

"Well, it won't happen again, right? There was no harm done – well, no permanent damage, at least – so don't feel too guilty. I'm fine and we'll get to the bottom of this before they can hurt anyone else." Harry's tones left no room for arguing, so Ginny let it drop.

"What did Ron and Hermione think about all this? When did you talk with them?" Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he was interrogating Ginny – in a way he was, but for some reason, that whole idea seemed wrong to him.

"I was with them for hours before I came here. I left the Burrow at ten, went to Ron and Hermione's place, and came to talk to you," Ginny chose to reply the last question first. "Their point of view was a lot more subjective than yours. I don't know... Ron just reacted like he used to, jumped to conclusions and got angry, especially when I told them you ended up in St Mungo's because of this. You really gave him a scare earlier.

"I think it was a little too close to home for him, you know? His best mate nearly got killed by the people who want something from his baby sister. He'll be more help when he calms down, I knew that even before he told me so. And Hermione didn't know what to make of it – first killing my cat and then sending letters didn't seem logical to her. Ron was right, everyone should know you're a lot better at this sort of thing than they are – you already have a plausible theory, they just kept asking for details. I don't know why I didn't come to you earlier."

"You're still a lousy liar. We both know why you didn't come to me earlier," Harry stated dryly. Ginny snorted again, but this time it was not in amusement. She shot a dirty look at him, but he ignored it completely, not really bothered in the slightest.

"Wait – what did you just say? Ron was right, everyone should know I'm a lot better at this stuff than they are?" Harry asked suddenly, his brain kicking into action again as the dishonesty of Ginny's last statement was pushed aside. As Ginny nodded, the alarms went off in his head. "And by everyone, did he really mean _everyone_?"

"Yeah, just about. According to him, it's clear at the Ministry that you'd be the best man to a job like this," Ginny replied, somewhat baffled. Harry just stared at her, his thoughts racing a mile a minute.

"Harry? Is everything all right?" Ginny was looking at him worriedly, obviously concerned as he had just fallen into a pensive silence.

"When you left, what did you tell the press?" Harry's abrupt question surprised Ginny.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about our history?" Her expression was highly sceptic. It was clear to Harry she wanted to know what was going on.

"I don't want to, but it looks like we have to. What did you say in your statement?" Harry's frustration was beginning to become clear in his tones, and Ginny sighed slightly.

"That I wanted to concentrate on Quidditch for a while and even though you had never been anything but supportive, our relationship had slowly turned into an unwelcome distraction. We both needed to focus on our careers, so it was for the best," she recited dully.

"Yeah, right, unwelcome distraction, that was the phrase I was looking for," Harry told her with a wry smile that had no real humour behind it.

"You know press releases about relationships are mostly codswallop. Did you have a point to this?" Ginny asked, visibly irritated. Her ears were getting reddish – as with any other Weasley, it was a sign of trouble ahead.

"Yes, actually, I do. Everyone in the Ministry knows I'm good with stuff like this. It's not a farfetched idea to say that a lot of people outside the Ministry know, as well, given how eager people still are when it comes to everything I do." It couldn't be more evident from his tones that Harry was very irritated with this fact. "Everyone also knew how close we used to be, after all the fuss the press made about it. Loads of people read the statement you gave when we went our separate ways, to use a term your mother seems to be very fond of. What if these people aren't after you? What if they're after me?

"Just think about it. You're not that hard to locate – any idiot could find out where you live, it would only take a few minutes if you knew where to look. Your wards aren't the best in the world. If they wanted to get to me, they couldn't use anyone that really is close to me, because they're all much harder to get to. Ron and Hermione's wards are almost as strong as mine. Andromeda and Teddy are out because their wards are better than in Hogwarts – Andromeda upgrades them once a year. After all that's happened to her, I can't blame her for being careful. I visit your parents occasionally, but I could count on one hand the times they've been here, even though I've lived here for years, and Ron's lived here, too. Same goes with most of your brothers."

"But if they were after you, why would they pay so much attention to me for so long? This started before Christmas, and it's May now. There would've been faster ways to you," Ginny argued, slightly confused. Harry shook his head slightly.

"They needed to start early with you. I was an unwelcome distraction from Quidditch, remember? If you hadn't come to me, there would've been a chance that they would get caught by whoever you asked for help, and I'd be blissfully ignorant of the whole thing," he explained. "But this is all speculation. They could be after me, but it seems more likely that it's you they want. I don't know what it is that you've done to deserve this – probably nothing – and I have absolutely no idea who I'm referring to when I talk about 'them', so I don't really know anything yet."

"So you're saying that it could be me, you, or then we're completely missed something and it's neither one of us?" Ginny's tones and expression were thoughtful. As far as Harry was concerned, she had gotten the gist of what he was saying, so he nodded in agreement.

"Why couldn't it be both? It makes sense that they've been driving me towards you, but if they just wanted you, any random witch would've been as useful as I am. Picking someone more easily scared would've been a lot faster – you're the best man for the job, so it would have been assigned to you, anyway." Ginny was a little hesitant as she began explaining her thoughts to him, but something about Harry's expression seemed to encourage her, for her voice grew stronger as she spoke.

"Of course we have to take that into consideration. It's just that... Well, I could name about a hundred people who could do something like this to me, and I'm sure that not everyone loves you, but someone who wanted something from both of us?" Harry asked dubiously, shaking his head slightly.

"Why do you keep saying they want something from one of us? There are plenty of people who'd like nothing more than seeing you get killed. You sound like that's ruled out," Ginny questioned. Harry shrugged.

"They had a chance to do that already. These people don't seem to be shy with the Unforgivables – there would've been plenty of different ways to kill your cat, but they chose Avada Kedavra. Yet, they didn't kill me. I made a big mistake, whoever attacked me could've just as well got it over with and do me in. Besides, if they wanted to kill me, they'd only need to arrange a trap and lure me there. It'd be easier than all this, no need for big schemes," he explained. Ginny stared at him in shock.

"You know that the way you talk is just a little too casual, don't you? You nearly died today and you're not even upset about it!" she exclaimed, looking a little ill again.

"I almost get killed every other week. Duels and attacks are part of the job, and there are risks in every fight. You could ask Ron and Hermione, they both know it's not the safest job there is. Getting upset about is useless – I chose this job myself," Harry pointed out. "Oh, and no telling your mother about all this. There's enough fuss about the tight spots she happens to hear about somewhere else, and those are mild compared to most our cases. Ron doesn't want to worry her for nothing."

"For nothing?" Ginny repeated shrilly. "This is nothing?"

"Ginny, after all Ron and I did during the war, we get most of the toughest and trickiest cases. Kingsley's orders. This is almost nothing yet compared to everything we've handled, aside from the personal ties to it. You know this, we told you when we found out," Harry retorted, slightly irritated. She knew all this, he didn't really need to explain it again.

"Oh. You're right, I'd just forgotten," she said quietly. "This is certainly... strange. I used to know so much about you and you knew just about everything about me, but now... It feels like I don't know you at all anymore."

"Yeah, funny how that happens," Harry remarked dryly. It would be easier, he decided, if he just treated Ginny like someone he used to know but who was a complete stranger to him now. This shouldn't be anything but a job to him. It would better for his sanity, and much easier in the long run.

"You should make a list of people who don't like you, seem odd to you or who you're not on speaking terms with – we'll see if there's anyone who I know. That should take you a while. It might be safer to stay here for now, we'll talk about your living arrangements later – with Ron. Now, while you do that, I'll go get some sleep. Otherwise, I'm liable to start hexing people at work later," he continued nonchalantly.

"You're going to work today? You were injured yesterday!" Ginny cried out. Harry smiled slightly.

"That's just good news to you, since it means progress. My colleagues will try to get rid of me, obviously, even get the Minister to talk some sense to me, but they'll give up eventually. I'm not even going to do any fieldwork – taking up your case means loads of research first," he told her. "You know where I keep the parchment, get started on that list."

x-x

"Ginny? What are you doing here? What's that? A list?" Ron's voice shook Ginny out of her daze – she hadn't really slept at all last night, and now that her list was complete there was nothing to do, so her exhaustion was catching up with her. She looked up to see her youngest brother and his wife standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"It's certainly been a while since the last time we came to visit Harry and found you here instead," Hermione remarked. Ginny sighed.

"I'm still here only because Harry told me not to go home. I'm supposed to be making a list of everyone who might be doing this to me," she answered her brother's questions. Ron sat down opposite Ginny, peering at the list curiously.

"Did Harry make any sense of your story?" he asked, suddenly all business. Ginny nodded.

"Yeah, he has a good theory already. Two theories, actually. Or three, depending on how you want to look at it. But you should ask him, I'd get it wrong at some point," she told him.

"Where is Harry, anyway? Has he escaped to the Ministry already?" Hermione asked, looking around as if she expected Harry to suddenly be standing next to her.

"He went back to bed. I suppose he's still asleep," Ginny replied, slightly puzzled by Hermione's odd behaviour – surely they would hear when Harry got there? Her musings were interrupted by a derisive snort from the doorway, the same spot next to Hermione where Ron had just been standing. Hermione, Ron and Ginny all jumped, Ginny nearly falling off her chair.

"Still asleep with all this racket you're making?" Harry shook his head remorsefully.

"Harry, I've told you to stop doing that!" Hermione cried out shrilly, and suddenly her wariness made sense to Ginny. Apparently, Harry had been picking up old habits. "I'll be as paranoid as you are soon if you keep that up!"

"Sorry," Harry said, chuckling, not apologetic at all, "old habits die hard. Besides, I'm not even really paranoid yet. You should know, you were there when Ron was yelling at me for it for half an hour last night."

"Not paranoid?" Hermione repeated dubiously. "So if I went to check that mirror on your bedroom wall, I'd see it hasn't been fixed today?"

"After being ambushed yesterday, waking up to the sound of a doorbell sounds enough like the alarms we use. Just be glad she didn't Apparate to my bedroom," Harry grumbled, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Yes, she would've been cut in half, I'm sure," Hermione told him dryly. Harry shook his head again.

"Cut in half? How barbaric do you think I am?" he asked with a laugh. "Don't answer that."

"Harry, what did you think of Ginny's story?" Ron piped up, efficiently wiping the smile from Harry's face. He sighed deeply.

"They've been rising the stakes, either to see how far they had to go to get her to comply, or to get her to me. I'm not sure about that yet. First they got her away from Quidditch, then they killed her cat, threatened your family and Ginny herself, and then actually attacked me, but didn't kill me. I'd say there's something they want from me, because otherwise I'd be dead now," Harry recapped. Ron and Hermione exchanged grim looks.

"They've used Ginny to get to you? Have you checked her for tracing charms?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.

"It's no use. The wards here reverse all disguise and tracking enhancements," he reminded his friend. "But I don't think Ginny's been just a way to me – anyone else in the UK with a threat like this looming over their head would've been directed to me. She's involved, too."

"Why did you tell her to stay here?" Ron kept questioning Harry, his manners getting increasingly protective of his sister. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Because they've been in her flat. The letters didn't come by owls and they can't get through her wards," he said shortly. Ron shook his head.

"They could send them by Portkeys," he insisted. Harry crossed his arms over his chest – a gesture that was a sure sign of mild anger, this time at Ron's over-protectiveness and his lack of faith in Harry's abilities.

"I designed the bloody wards myself, Ron. There are very specific limits on what Portkeys will get through, and I'm fairly certain none of the people capable of creating a Portkey that could get to her flat are involved in this," Harry told him irately. "You can just get over yourself and start thinking rationally. I'm not keeping her here to take advantage of her, I'm just trying to keep her safe. I can still do my job."

"This isn't just a job! This is _Ginny_! My sister and your –" Harry cut Ron off with a glare.

"Maybe this isn't an ordinary job, but it still is just a job. You can't be that subjective, Ron, and you know it," he said.

"You can't be entirely objective, either," Ron encountered. "With your history, it just isn't..." His voice faded out as he saw the murderous look on Harry's face.

"Keep telling people that 'this isn't a job, it's _Ginny_'," Harry repeated coldly, "and you'll be put off the case faster than you can blink. I told her last night, and I'm telling you now, our history is _not_ the subject here."

"Put off the case? Are you saying I can't do my job?" Ron asked, his ears flaming red.

"Not anymore than you're saying that I can't concentrate on what I'm supposed to be doing," Harry hissed. Ron snorted.

"Well, that isn't a very complimenting thought," he retorted. Ginny and Hermione exchanged worried looks – they had never seen Harry and Ron both this furious with each other.

"Fine. If that's what you think, _fine_. If you don't want me to help, I won't. I'm sorry, Ginny, but for as long as your brother can't keep his trap shut, you'll have to hope they assign someone decent to help you in the office," Harry said, his tones suddenly very light and unconcerned. "If you're lucky, you'll get Dawlish. He's got quite the track record – Fudge, Scrimgeour and Voldemort all depended on him when they were in charge, at least when it came to tracking Dumbledore and other insane escapades."

"Harry, don't talk like that," Ron growled warningly. Harry just smiled brightly at him.

"If you had listened, I would've told you I wasn't very keen on taking this case in the first place, but you just made the decision easier! I'm not taking it," he said cheerfully. "Actually, this would be the perfect time to have a holiday. I could do with a change of scenery. I think I have a house in Australia, inherited it from my dad. Or was it Sirius? Anyway, I've always wanted to see kangaroos."

"You can't be serious," Ron said, only getting angrier, knowing that Harry was deliberately winding him up.

"You're right. I shouldn't go to Australia, it'll be winter in there soon. The Caribbean sounds better, doesn't it? I've heard that the scenery in the Dominican Republic is magnificent," Harry chattered on, unconcerned of his friend's ire.

"Harry, you're _not_ going to take off and leave my sister to fend for herself! Without someone competent, whoever is after her will get to her in a few hours!" Harry kept his cool even as Ron started shouting.

"And I'm the only competent Auror in Britain?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow, all the amusement gone as swiftly as it had come.

"Will you please stop that? She'll be dead in a week without you! You just can't pack your things and leave her to fend for herself! " Ron was more desperate than angry now, and Harry realised he really was worried, not just being a git. That did very little to lessen the sting of everything Ron had told him, however, especially of the last line.

"_You can't just pack your things and go! You can't just leave me like this and tell me to have a good life!" he called after her, still standing in the kitchen, his tea now spilled all over the floor. The kitten was playing with the pieces of the broken mug._

"_Considering you're supposed to be the hero of the wizarding world, you sound so desperate it's almost pathetic." Her cold retort left him more shocked than hurt._

"_So you're really not going to explain?" he asked in a whisper when she came back to the kitchen to get Sparkles. She shook her head shortly._

"_I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually." With that, she Apparated out. Just a quiet 'pop', and she was gone from his life, leaving him to stand alone in the kitchen for hours to wonder just how easily he had let her go._

Harry turned to Ginny, noticing that she had also found some words of Ron's very familiar. He smiled at her, hoping he didn't look as bitter as he felt.

"I agree with you now, that does sound a little desperate," he stated. Ginny flinched noticeably, and Ron's anger seemed to change into bewilderment.

"What did I say?" he asked, looking from Harry to Ginny in confusion.

"So you're really not going to help me, then?" Ginny's voice was quiet and hesitant. Harry sighed.

"I really don't need Ron breathing down my neck all the time. If he can get over himself, well, I kind of promised already, didn't I? But one more 'she's my sister' and I'm moving permanently to some other continent." He was technically speaking to Ginny, but he was staring at Ron the entire time. "Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Ron replied instantly. "Listen, I'm sorry, mate, I kind of flew off the handle... again. I just don't want either one of you getting hurt, and this really isn't the ideal situation for that."

"No worries, Ron. Just don't start that again. I get it that you're worried, but this is _not_ my fault, OK?" Harry was still frustrated – Ron had been acting like he thought Harry had wanted this to happen. He had wished nothing of the sort – actually, he was still sort of hoping that this would be one of his more realistic nightmares and that he'd wake up any minute now.

He would be dead in a week if he had to keep seeing Ginny daily. He just wouldn't be able to handle it. Knowing that, and still offering her the other bedroom in his flat – Ron's old room – was, for all intents and purposes, a suicide. But Harry did it anyway.

Hermione knew him, and that was why she was shaking her head sadly and staring at Harry worriedly when the petite redhead accepted his offer. Because to Hermione it had been clear since the day it had first happened; when it came to Ginny Weasley, Harry was addicted to heartbreak.


	2. Chapter 2: Threats

**Chapter 2 – Threats**

"_Good morning, Harry." Her soft whisper was always the first thing he heard in the morning. "You need to tell that arm of yours that Gwenog will kill me if I'm late again."_

_Harry squinted his eyes open and saw, albeit the image was a little blurry, that his left arm was once again around Ginny's waist. He untangled himself and reached for his glasses._

"_I've told it so a million times, but it looks like it just can't help itself," he said, paying attention to sounding very remorseful. Ginny saw the teasing twinkle in his eyes and chucked a pillow at him._

"_Prat."_

_Harry didn't need to ask where Ginny was going – she always took a shower while he slowly got up, let the post owls in and put the kettle on. Then, while Harry was in the shower, she usually made them both breakfast. Even though technically she didn't live with him, she hadn't even visited her own flat in months – as far as Harry was aware, anyway._

_On his way out of the bedroom, he noticed the bags next to the door. It looked like Ginny had packed most of what she owned, and he frowned slightly. He hadn't thought she had a game today._

"_Gin? Are you planning on going somewhere?" Harry called as he heard Ginny turning off the water in the shower. There was a while of silence._

"_No, I just packed early for the next game," came the casual answer, "Gwenog said we should all do that, since she'll be keeping us very busy before it."_

"_Oh. Well, I guess it's good you're prepared for when you have to go."_

_Twelve hours later, she had left him, and he had never felt stupider than he did when he saw her carrying her bags out the door. He hadn't seen it coming, __and now that it had happened, he just didn't understand how he had missed the clues._

x-x

Taking a shower was a part of Harry's morning routine. It was important to him for other reasons than personal hygiene – it allowed him to clear his head after his usual nightmares. He wasn't sure what did it, and he didn't really care, either, but something about it just made things easier to put into perspective.

This particular morning it was a very good thing, for the insides of his head had been rather foggy ever since he had opened the door to let Ginny in last night. He needed to get his mind back on track if he wanted to hold any hopes of getting through this mess with more than the remnants of his sanity.

Even the warm water of the shower did very little to relax his tensed muscles as he thought about what he had been doing that morning. He had invited Ginny to live with him until she was out of danger or her flat was secure, whichever happened first. Ginny had agreed, and Ron had thought it was a spectacular idea, so he had at once left with Ginny to get some of her things so she could move in instantly.

Harry had seen the look in Hermione's eyes, so the second the Weasley siblings had left, he had escaped to the shower. He was fairly certain it would get him time to think – Hermione wouldn't come to the bathroom. Harry was thankful for the small favours; it would have been difficult to tell her why he had signed himself up for an unlimited time of additional, daily torture so readily when he hadn't figured out the reason yet himself.

"Are you trying to drown yourself in there, Harry?" Hermione's voice cut short Harry's thoughts. He sighed heavily – he should've known that even if her sense of propriety would keep Hermione out of the bathroom, it wouldn't keep her off his case.

"Would you blame me if I was?" Harry called back jokingly, turning off the water. He could hear Hermione's sigh through the door.

"Not really, no. Have I told you recently that I think you're insane?" She sounded more tired than amused. "Ron and Ginny didn't see the look on your face when you invited her to live here, but I did. You know what you're doing to yourself."

"It's not about me this time, Hermione," Harry argued, "she has some lunatic chasing her and this just happens to be the safest place for her. My feelings haven't really got an influence on it."

"Oh, your feelings have got an influence, your common sense hasn't! It's your suicidal, noble heart telling you that you need to save her, isn't it? That you need to help her through this, no matter what it does to you?" The bitterness in Hermione's voice surprised Harry; since Ginny had always been her friend, he didn't think she would oppose so strongly to his instinct to protect her sister-in-law.

"Let's not drag the people saving thing to this, okay? It's a completely different thing," Harry retorted. He could picture Hermione rolling her eyes at him in the hallway.

"No, it's not. Listen to me, Harry. Ginny will understand. You could take her to Grimmauld Place or something. She'd be safe in the Burrow, too. You don't need to do this to yourself." Harry sighed again as he listened to her.

"It's not going to affect me that much," he replied, knowing Hermione was not going to buy it.

"Don't give me that rubbish! I was there when she left you! You were a mess for half a year, and you're still not yourself. You need to understand that she's not here to stay. She's going to walk out of your life again, and what will you do then?" Harry gulped as he realised his friend's voice was shaking violently. "I'm not going to let you do that to yourself! I won't just stand aside so you can go through all that again."

"This is different from the last time, Hermione. First of all, I know she's going to leave, eventually, and I'll know beforehand, since I'll be the judge of when it's safe for her to go. Second, I'm different now, like you said. I know what I'm doing, and I think it's more or less worth it to have her here. For example, I can monitor any threats she gets," he called back. Hermione chuckled wryly, and Harry imagined she was shaking her head at him on the other side of the door.

"Right. You're only thinking about work again. I should've known. You meant it when you told Ron this is just a job to you, didn't you?" she questioned, sounding almost disappointed.

"Yes. No. I don't know. It should be," Harry replied, his voice suddenly much quieter. "But I'm not going to argue with you about the way I deal with this. Ginny is safest here, so she'll stay here and that's it. If she went to the Burrow, I'd have to assign a bodyguard to her, and you know as well as I do what she'd say to that. This arrangement does make my life a little easier on that sense."

"I'll remember that one when you come to tell me that she's driving you crazy. I still think you ought to start thinking about yourself a little, but if you have to do this, go ahead," Hermione told him with another deep sigh. "It's actually good you're so stubborn – I don't like it that you have to be so close to her, but since Ginny is one of my best friends, I'll sleep better at night knowing that you're helping her."

"I was wondering about that," Harry called back, "since you've always been so good friends with her, why are you so worried about me but not thinking about Ginny at all? But you are, aren't you? You're just making sure I'm not going to back out of this."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed instantly. "I am worried about Ginny, yes, but I'm seriously concerned about you too – I'm not questioning you just to see that you're going to help her like you promised."

"Then why are you questioning me?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione, however, didn't have a chance to answer him: Harry could distinctly hear the door slamming open and two people running in.

"Harry! Are you in here?" Ron sounded worried and upset – there was honest fear in his tones, something Harry hadn't heard in a while.

"I'm in the shower!" Ron burst to the bathroom in the middle of Harry's reply and peered to the shower.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry asked irately, shoving his friend away from him and grabbing a towel. Hermione and Ginny stood in the hallway, exchanging awkward glances as Harry stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his midriff.

"There's another note," Ron explained gruffly. "It's for you."

"One note and you come running back to make sure – what? That I'm actually here and haven't been kidnapped or anything? Or that I'm not an impostor?" Harry questioned. "And if that was it, you're doing a crappy job, since you still haven't asked me anything and impostors can't be revealed by just looking at them."

"Did that bloody curse really do _that _much damage?" Ron's eyes were fixed on the wound in Harry's chest and he looked a little ill. Harry sighed impatiently.

"Why do you think I spent five hours unconscious in St Mungo's? For the fun of it?" he asked snappishly, glaring at his best mate. "What was in the note that got you in such a state?"

"You can see for yourself," Ron told him, holding out the piece of parchment that he had in his fist. He instantly pulled it back, obviously having another idea. "You can read it after you've put on some clothes. I just remembered, there are women around."

"Oh, please. You can come barging in when I'm having a shower – stark naked, I might add – and I can't read a love-letter like this?" Harry's tones were so overly sweet it was clear he was being sarcastic. "Besides, if you're worried about your sister's virtue – this is nothing she hasn't seen before. Give me the note."

Ron hesitated, glancing at Ginny nervously before he slowly handed the note to Harry. Ginny, too, seemed very anxious as Harry took the parchment and rolled it open.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have passed our test by surviving our surprise. Perhaps you will have better luck persuading the lovely Ms Weasley to co-operate before your time runs out: we would very much like to see you two having lunch in the Three Broomsticks today._

_Please do not let us down. You would not like a repeat of what happened yesterday. The next time we will use a stronger curse._

There was no signature. Harry stared at the piece of parchment in his hands in a daze – the familiarity was simply amazing. The fact that whoever had written it had done a very good job with the thin, slanting handwriting didn't do much to calm him down. The people behind this might have been going for some sort of déjà vu-moment, but they had only succeeded in ticking him off. They should have left this alone.

"It's Dumbledore's," Harry whispered, so quietly even Ron, who was closest to him, had trouble hearing what he said.

"Dumbledore's?" Ron repeated, perplexed. Harry nodded.

"The handwriting. It's Dumbledore's. I'd recognise it anywhere." He swiftly turned to look at Ginny, who was staring at him with something akin to surprise on her face. "Have all the notes you received been written like this?"

Ginny shook her head slowly, biting her lip. Harry knew it was a nervous habit she had acquired somewhere during her Hogwarts years.

"No, none of them were like that. I thought I imagined it, but the handwriting on all of them looked a little like..." Ginny's voice faded off and she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "Tom's writing."

"Voldemort's?" Harry prompted, and Ginny nodded.

"What do they mean by 'our surprise'? The one that you survived?" Hermione asked, promptly changing the subject.

"Since it's clear that I've already survived it, it had been over long before this note was delivered, so I think they're referring to what happened yesterday," Harry said pensively. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Yes, that sounds logical. But you passed a test? They tried to kill you just to see whether you'd survive?" she questioned, her expression slightly confused. "Who would do something like that?"

Ron and Harry exchanged grim looks – unfortunately, it had become clear to them that too many people were willing to go that far. Maybe every time it was not intentional, but after investigating a few deaths of the people who hadn't "passed the test", the two Aurors were nowhere near as surprised to hear that the curse had been an assessment of Harry.

"That curse would have been fatal," Ginny piped in quietly, "if you hadn't moved away when you saw it coming, Harry."

"How do you know he moved out of the way?" Ron asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at his sister. Ginny shrugged.

"I know a thing or two about curses – and about Harry, too. I heard from Mum that you told her Harry opened a door and then he was suddenly hurled backwards down the stairs. If you open a door," Ginny demonstrated as she spoke by closing the door of the bathroom and opening it again, "whoever is on the other side sees that it's being opened, and sees the person opening it before the person sees him. So the bloke on the other side of the door saw where Harry was, and had time to aim his wand."

"If they were really testing me, the bloke would have done his best to kill me," Harry interrupted, "so he would aim the curse where it was sure to be fatal."

"And the most logical place for a cutting curse that powerful would be your neck," Ginny continued, shuddering almost involuntarily. "But we can all see that it hit your chest."

"You must have seen it coming and ducked. I didn't see you doing any magic, so we have to assume you thought you wouldn't have time to make a shield. And you didn't have a lot of time to dodge, either – if you had had a little more, it wouldn't have even hit you," Ron speculated, staring at Harry thoughtfully.

"It would be a lot easier if I remembered what happened," Harry said with a deep sigh. He was very frustrated – loss of memory was a new thing to him, and he didn't like it one bit. If he just remembered... he must have seen the attacker, and the spell – there would be a lot more to go with – and he would know how he had reacted...

"You don't remember?" Ginny asked, alarmed. Ron, Hermione and Harry all nodded simultaneously, all frowning. It seemed everyone was thinking about what they could do with Harry's memories.

"The last thing I remember before waking up in St Mungo's is leaving the Ministry," Harry confirmed. Ginny's eyebrows were knitted together as she stared at him in deep thought.

"The Healers said it's not because of a memory charm or any magic. Harry had other injuries than what that curse did to him – he did fall down a flight of stairs, after all. The Healer that we spoke with thought that he can't remember because he hit his head at some point," Hermione interrupted her musings tiredly.

"Yeah, almost broke his neck when he fell," Ron muttered darkly, "and if I'd done something other than gawked, he might still remember all of it." Harry sighed. It was unlike Ron to blame himself like this, and Harry didn't quite know how to handle his friend's guilt.

"It wasn't your fault," he told Ron for what felt like the hundredth time. "And even if I remembered the attacker, it wouldn't be of any use, since my memory loss was an accident. The bloke would have made sure that I didn't recognise him."

"Harry's right, Ron," Ginny said, "it can't have been your fault, and there really isn't a lot his memories would tell us that we don't already know."

"There's loads we could discern from what he saw. The location of the attacker, the clothes he was wearing – the identity doesn't matter, there's plenty of other stuff we would find out!" Ron was insistent, and Harry was growing tired of it.

"Snap out of it! We still wouldn't have anything to go by – there's nothing the clothes would have told us, the location doesn't matter as long as he wasn't on the ceiling, and besides, we already know approximately where the bloke was. There is _nothing_ that we would know that we already don't, and as I'm the one who should remember, stop blaming yourself!" Even though Harry wasn't shouting, or particularly harsh, Ron stared at him, taken aback.

"How do you know what we know about the case?" he asked slowly, his eyes boring into Harry's.

"Let me guess. You, disobeying the orders you got from the Healers at St Mungo's, didn't come straight home and take your Dreamless Sleep potion. You went to the Ministry. You read the file I wrote while we were waiting for you to wake up in the hospital, and then you went back to the place where you were attacked. We didn't know everything when I last checked in. _You _went and found out what we didn't know about the place," Ron continued. When he was done, Harry nodded.

"Now I know why I always do the paperwork," he added cheekily. Ron rolled his eyes tiredly.

"You do the paperwork because if I did it, you'd have some spare time every now and then, and we can't have that, can we?" he asked sardonically.

"Do you want to keep talking about this or do you want to know what I think about this letter?" Harry asked, tired of bickering with his friend. What he said seemed to pique Ron's interest, for he stood up straighter instantly, an eager look on his face.

"What? Is there something particularly interesting in it?" Ginny piped up. Harry glanced at her; she was wearing an expression of morbid curiosity. It looked to him like she didn't really want to know anything about the whole thing, just wanted the Aurors to catch the culprits and then forget this had ever happened, but at the same time couldn't help asking.

"In this one? No, there's really nothing that would give us any clues to... well, anything. There's nothing in here that implies that whoever wrote this knows something about me that can't be found from Rita Skeeter's articles," Harry started pensively, "but the ones addressed to you... They should shorten the list you made. How many people know what sort of a bond you had to Tom Riddle? And how many people could copy his handwriting?"

"You're right. That does leave me with a lot shorter list. Let's see, now I've got..." Ginny pulled out the list from her pocket and quickly ran her eyes over it, "no one left. Well, there is one person who does know all of the things that they've used against me, down to Riddle's handwriting, and a lot more than that, but he's not on the list."

"Why not?" Harry asked, staring at Ginny through narrowed eyes. She chuckled.

"Because I trust him. He'd never do anything like this." The certainty in Ginny's voice felt slightly nauseating to Harry. Once upon a time, she had used those tones when she was taking about him, or encouraging him to try something. He was disgusted with himself when he realised he was actually jealous.

"And who is he?" asked Ron, a knowing look in his eyes, his gaze shifting from Harry to Ginny and back as if he was watching a tennis match. Harry had a feeling Ron knew who Ginny was talking about, and suddenly he felt that it didn't matter if Ginny had the right to date other people than him these days, if the bloke she was talking about wasn't one of her brothers, Harry was going to kill him.

"I'm talking about you, Harry." Ginny's voice broke Harry's trail of thought effectively. Him? She was talking about _him_? Of course. It made sense. He knew almost everything about her past because it was his past, too – he had had years to learn all her deepest and darkest secrets, her hopes and dreams and desires, her likes and dislikes... He knew who she was close to, where she lived, how to get through the wards around her flat and what she did when she wasn't working.

If someone else had known Ginny as well as he did, he would have had to arrest the bloke. He knew he hadn't done anything, but if it had been someone else... The pieces would have clicked together so neatly, so easily... While the Auror in him was disappointed in the lack of no real suspects, the side of him that had been jealous of the idea of someone else knowing Ginny so intimately was purring. The fact was there was no one else but him that she would have let into her life like that, and he didn't quite know whether to be delighted, disappointed or both.

"That's certainly a strange feeling," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. Ginny, apparently as a defensive reflex, put her hands on her hips and glared at him, in a way that was uncannily like the pose her mother took when she was angry.

"What is?" she asked, her question laden with an obvious threat of immediate pain if he answered with a smart remark of something about their history.

"Actually considering putting myself on the list of suspects," replied Harry with a casual shrug, knowing that whatever she was thinking he meant, this wasn't it. Her reaction proved him right; her mouth opened to form a silent "oh", and a faint blush crept to her cheeks. She almost instantly stuffed her hands into her pockets, so that they weren't threateningly on her hips anymore.

"For the sake of your own health, I hope that was before you heard she was talking about you," piped up Ron, who didn't seem very happy with Harry's answer. Harry just glared at him.

"Don't be stupid. You know I'd _never_ hurt Ginny," he said. Ron grinned, and suddenly Harry realised the prat had been joking. He shot another glare at the redhead, annoyed with the joke he thought wasn't the best of ideas at the current situation, and left for his bedroom.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Ron called after him, his tones slightly concerned. "You know it was a joke!"

"I want to get dressed, if you don't mind," Harry called back, closing the door to his bedroom none too gently. He cursed loudly as the mirror on the wall next to the door fell down, crashing to the floor with a bang. It was the second time that day when he had broken it.

It was very odd, since he could vividly recall a time when he had thrown a shoe at the thing, and it hadn't fallen to the floor, and now it fell when he closed the door. Even though it could have been explained otherwise, alarms instantly went off in the back of Harry's mind. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but it wouldn't hurt to check...

The _humanum revelio-_spell showed him that there were only three people in the apartment, other than himself, and a few quick spells on the mirror proved that there had been no enchantments placed on it, except for the occasional spells Harry had used to fix it. He chuckled at his own paranoia, before his eyes came to rest on his robes.

There was a piece of parchment poking out of one of the pockets.

It was the same set of robes he had been wearing yesterday, at the time he had been attacked. Harry reached for the crumpled note with slightly shaking hands and unfolded it.

_I am not worried, Harry, when I am with you, because you have such fast reflexes. You pass the test._

Harry crumpled the parchment, enraged again. _I am not worried, Harry. I am with you. _There was _no one _in the entire world who had heard those words, other than Dumbledore and Harry himself. Since Harry had never told anyone, and Dumbledore had died before the next sunrise, Harry was fairly certain no one else had found out. Ginny's past and Riddle's handwriting would have been much easier to learn than the meaning of this particular phrase.

Seething, Harry pulled on his clothes and strode to the kitchen, where the other three were currently having breakfast. They looked up as Harry entered, and Ginny seemed a little frightened of the expression on his face. Ron and Hermione, however, just seemed confused.

"Is everything all right?" asked Ron, frowning heavily as he took in the Harry's furious look. Harry threw the scrunched up parchment on the table, and Ron apprehensively picked it up. The frown on his face deepened as he read it and then passed it to Hermione.

"Does this mean something to you, other than the part that says you passed the test?" Ron spoke hesitatingly, almost as if he had to think whether he dared to ask. Harry nodded shortly.

"_I am not worried Harry, when I am with you, because you have such fast reflexes,"_ Hermione read aloud."What does it mean?"

"It's something Dumbledore told me. Well, it's a twisted version of something he said," Harry explained quietly, hating the fact he had to say aloud what he had been thinking about for the last five minutes. "And no one heard that conversation."

"When was it?" Hermione questioned, her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at Harry thoughtfully.

"When we were getting out of the cave, the night he died. He was injured, and I was helping him out, and told him not to worry, that I'd get us out. He told me he wasn't worried because I was there, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world." Harry wasn't aware of it, but there was a far-away look in his eyes and his lips were curled into a very slight, sad smile as he recalled the night. It was odd, how vividly he could remember it – it certainly didn't feel like all that had happened over five years ago.

"Anyway, this is getting personal," he continued, gesturing at the two notes on the table – the one he had just brought there, and the other that had been addressed to him. "If they start using the handwriting of one of my parents – or Sirius or Remus, for that matter – next, I'm getting the bastards a lifetime in Azkaban just for pissing me off."

"So far they've only tried to kill you, killed your cat, threatened Ginny, and _now_ it's getting personal?" Ron asked, laughing almost involuntarily. Harry grinned at his friend, seeing the humour in his statement.

"The cat wasn't mine, I only got it for Ginny. And half the people I know have at some point itched to kill me, I can't take that personally, otherwise I'd get lonely quite fast," he retorted. "Take your family, for example. Most of you have tried to murder me for one reason or another – you do it regularly yourself, Ron – and some of you have almost succeeded, but still, I do love you all."

The expression on his face and his exaggerated gestures, along with his wistful tones, told the others he was joking. Still, it seemed he realised what he had said the same time everyone else did, and his cheeks reddened very slightly as Ginny stared at him incredulously while Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised looks.

"Why did you say 'your' family? It's your family too, Harry, even though you do your best to avoid all of us these days," Ron told him quite seriously. Harry shrugged.

"I don't avoid all of you. You still practically live here, even though you've moved out, and I visit George every other day," he replied evasively. Ron pressed on, ignoring his friend's obvious discomfort.

"You know that's not what I meant. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ginny, Mum and Dad haven't seen you in ages!" Harry felt like banging his head on the table. This was no new argument, and each time it was just as awkward for him.

"You know very well why Ginny and I haven't been all that close in a few years," he said shortly. "Percy and I never were best mates – I don't think we've ever seen eye to eye on anything. Bill and Charlie, well, I never really even knew them, so I don't blame them for taking Ginny's side after we broke up. She's their sister, after all."

"I suppose you have an excuse for not visiting Mum and Dad, too?" Ron asked sarcastically. Harry just shrugged again. "C'mon, mate, you have got to visit them soon, they're driving me mad with questions about you! You know Mum loves you, it's breaking her heart that you never go see her."

Harry offered a noncommittal grunt for response, and Ron seemed to realise he wouldn't talk about it. Ginny, however, stared at Harry curiously. She smiled slightly as she seemed to realise something.

"Mum's been looking for someone for you, hasn't she?" she asked, sounding amused. "Wanting to marry you off and all that... She didn't set you up with anyone, did she?"

"She tried," Harry admitted, sounding very tired indeed. "I asked her – very politely – to _please_ never do that again, and, well, she didn't like that. I know she meant well, but, er, the person was just..."

"Who was it?" asked Ginny, something dark flashing in her eyes as Harry actually started laughing.

"Romilda Vane," he told her, quickly sobering up when he thought about the row he had had with Mrs Weasley about it. "Anyway, your mother and I had different views of what's good for me, and she told me, quite explicitly, that I could stay locked up in my office for the rest of my life and keep out of her sight."

"Harry, you've known Mum for years. You know she doesn't mean most of the things she shouts when she's angry," Ron said, shaking his head sadly. Harry sighed deeply.

"She wasn't shouting," he told his friend. Ron, Ginny and Hermione all stared at Harry in various stages of shock and confusion. "It's not really a big deal. Mrs Weasley and I haven't been in good terms in a while; something like that was bound to happen eventually."

"You haven't been in good terms? What do you mean? You've always been like a son to her. She wouldn't tell you to stop coming to visit," Ron insisted, shaking his head. Hermione's eyebrows were knitted together, her gaze shifting rapidly from Harry and Ginny and back again. Ginny just stared at Harry sadly.

"I lost you your family," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"My family," retorted Harry sharply, "was killed by Voldemort. I knew when I started going out with you that when we broke up, my relationship with your family would change, and not necessarily for the better."

"That'll make for a cheerful dinner tomorrow, then," Ron commented, his expression blank. Harry looked at him in confusion, and he just shrugged. "Well, mate, technically, you're Ginny's bodyguard at the moment. You know as well as I do that you'll officially be assigned to protect her 24/7 when you get to the Ministry. That means you have to come to the Burrow for Mum's weekly dinner."

"You're an Auror. You'll be there. It'll be enough," Harry said shortly. Ron shook his head.

"If you're her bodyguard, you'll have to be there. You know you have no choice," he reminded his friend. "Oh, I can imagine Mum's face when she finds out you're there on business..."

"Ron, you're not exactly helping." Harry glared at his friend, who had paled remarkably as he started imagining his mother's reaction.

"I could just skip it," said Ginny, "I understand if you want me to, Harry."

"No, you can go. I'll just... hang out with George, Hermione and Ron, and try to keep out of your mother's way the best I can," replied Harry with a small shrug. "You need to tell your family about the situation, and that's as good a time as any."

Ginny looked a little intimidated by the thought of telling her family someone was stalking her but nodded, her expression changing to one of steely determination. Harry knew that look and suddenly he was looking forward to dinner and seeing how Ginny would handle it.

x-x

"_No_, Harry, go home." As soon as Harry had stepped into the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic from one of the fireplaces, he had run into the current Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Considering the Healers at St. Mungo's had ordered Harry to stay off of work for at least a week, Kingsley wasn't too happy to see him.

"Nice to see you too, Minister," Harry replied cheerfully. "I really tried to stay away this time, but Ron wouldn't let me take a little holiday."

Kingsley and Harry had been friends for years, and Kingsley was aware of Harry's tendency to make sure he had no free time. He also knew Ron and Hermione were very worried about Harry, so when he heard this statement, he was very surprised.

"Really? Ron told you to get to work today?" he asked as Ron came out of the same fireplace Harry had come from just moments before. Harry nodded in response, turning to Ron.

"What took you so long?" Ron looked slightly irritated at the question.

"Hermione and Ginny were having some sort of a heart-to-heart," he retorted, shaking his head. "You'd think they'd find a better time to gossip."

"What? _Ginny?_ Are you talking to her again, Harry?" asked Kingsley, now rather shocked. Harry and Ron didn't have time to answer before Ginny had arrived to the Atrium, closely followed by Hermione. They, too, had used the Floo.

Ginny was looking decidedly awkward as the Minister for Magic was staring at her in blatant shock. Harry noticed this and started walking, steering Kingsley along so the man's attention was taken off from Ginny.

"Now that you asked, it's a long story. I need your permission for a few things, and it's urgent, so I hope you don't have anything on your schedule right now," said Harry. Kingsley shook his head.

"No, there's nothing I should be doing at the moment that can't wait," he replied as the entered an empty lift. "Could you tell me what this is about, Harry?"

Hermione and Ginny were slightly surprised to see Harry smiling slightly. Ron just rolled his eyes as he saw the grin on his friend's face, apparently resigned to what he knew was coming.

"Something that'll make you regret continuing your career as the Minister for Magic," he told Kingsley, who chuckled.

"Judging by how grim you looked when you got here, I don't really believe that," he replied.

"Well, it's getting a little too personal for my liking, but apart from that, it's the most interesting case I've had in a while. Beats squabbles between neighbours," retorted Harry. Ginny was staring at him, obviously appalled.

"You think this is fun? You have a stalker who almost killed you and you consider it a good case?" she asked snappishly. "There's a serious threat to your life and you're excited about it. You need to get your priorities straight!"

"Oh, Gin, I didn't know you cared." Harry's exaggeratedly airy tones made it clear he was being sarcastic. As far as he was concerned, Ginny had no idea what she was talking about so she could shut up. In a way, it was her fault he was excited about this – it was after she had left that he had become so dependent on his job, after all.

"I don't. You just need to get it into your head that even though you've gotten lucky a few times, your luck will run out eventually," replied Ginny heatedly. "It's against all odds that you're still alive, and I highly doubt it's because you're such a talented Auror."

"If you don't think I'm good enough, there are plenty of other Aurors to choose from. Like I told Kingsley, it's an interesting case, but I think I'd survive," said Harry coldly. It was a minor annoyance that she disapproved of what he thought about this case, but criticising his ability to do his job was a much more serious offence.

"I'm not saying I don't think you're good at what you do, I'm just saying that it wouldn't hurt to actually appreciate your life a little," said Ginny, her voice suddenly quieter. As Harry glanced at her, he realised she looked very nervous. Briefly, he wondered why, but then he realised he had never talked to her quite so harshly. He had used harsh words before, but back then Ginny had always known he loved her and that he really didn't mean to hurt her. Now he had practically told her that she could get out of his life again and he wouldn't care and had meant every word.

"Because I'm interested in the case doesn't mean I don't know how lucky I am to be alive," Harry told her, his tones kinder. "You don't have to worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"Now that's an interesting thing to say," piped up Ron, "since you're supposed to be resting at home and you're here."

"Don't start this again. You didn't give me much choice, so it really isn't my fault," said Harry, thoroughly tired of this argument. "Can we please just stop bickering and concentrate on the reason we're all here?"

"You've certainly got me curious now," Kingsley spoke again as the lift stopped. A cool female voice rang out.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services." Harry was the first to step out of the lift when the doors opened, and he ran right into Arthur Weasley, who was holding a rather big cardboard box that hit Harry's stomach as the two wizards collided.

Harry bent over in obvious pain, pressing a hand to the spot the cardboard box had hit – Ron was quick to notice that it had hit the wound. Arthur dropped the box and quickly knelt down next to Harry.

"I'm so sorry, Harry! Are you all right?" he asked, sounding very sincerely concerned. Harry slowly straightened up and nodded as Arthur got back to his feet.

"Yes, Mr Weasley, I'm fine, don't worry. It wasn't your fault, I should've watched where I was going," he said with a smile. Arthur still looked worried.

"Ron told us you were supposed to have a week off after yesterday. What are you doing here? You should be resting!" It looked like he was so focused on Harry that he hadn't noticed the others yet, but when Ron cleared his throat, he looked around. When he saw Ginny, his expression turned from concern into surprise.

"There's something that needs my attention here so I had to come, but since I'm not doing anything strenuous, it should be all right," Harry explained vaguely. "We were just about to explain it to Kingsley, but I think you should come, too."

"You and Ginny are in the same room only because she needs help from an Auror." Arthur's words were a statement, not a question, and he sounded fairly disappointed. "What's happened?"

"It's a long story, but your entire family might be in danger. You need to tell them to be careful," said Harry, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Like I said, you should come to my office."

"You have an office now?" asked Ginny, slightly surprised. "The last time I was here, you had a cubicle like everyone else."

"Yes, it's funny how much can change in two years, isn't it?" Harry asked lightly, starting to walk again. They walked past the cubicles and in from a dark door.

"Potter and Weasley," Ginny read aloud the brass plaque on the door, her eyebrows raised as she looked to Harry and Ron, and then took in the office. Of the six people present, she was the only one who hadn't been there before. There were two similar desks facing each other on opposite walls, a window on the wall opposite the door, a sofa beneath the window and a bookshelf in one of the corners. Adorning the wall with the window was a map of the British Isles – Ginny knew it was charmed to show illegal magic, and a fireplace for Floo calls.

Harry had invented the map a few years back. Accidental magic and the mostly harmless magic children did while away from school were very light spots on the map, the Unforgivables and strong Dark magic caused a noisy alarm and a flashing red spot on the place so it was easy for the Aurors to locate.

It wasn't hard to guess which desk was Ron's. There was a poster of the Chudley Cannons behind it, and another one of the Harpies (but mercifully placed cleverly so that it couldn't be seen from Harry's desk, and he didn't have to stare at Ginny every time he looked up). A picture of Hermione and wrappers of Chocolate Frogs decorated the desk, as well as a messy pile of parchments with details of different jobs. The difference to Harry's side of the office was glaring. There were no personal items on Harry's desk, just a neat pile of files at least twice as high as the one on Ron's desk, and no posters on the wall behind it.

"What's the sofa for?" asked Ginny, curious since she thought it looked like something Harry might have bought and she didn't think it was because it looked good there. She was surprised to see Kingsley, Hermione and her father suddenly looking very awkward and Harry glaring at Ron who was about to speak.

"What? I'm not allowed to talk about it?" asked Ron, staring at Harry. It looked like the two were having some sort of a silent argument as the staring contest went on and on. Finally, Ron shook his head angrily as Harry finally turned to look at Ginny.

"It's good to have," he said shortly, walking to his desk and sitting down. "Take a seat, everyone, this should take a while."

"So, Ginny, since it's your story, would you like to tell them why we're here?" asked Harry. Ginny shrugged and started her story once again. She finished when she got to the latest note she had received.

"I did visit George, like they told me to, but..." She didn't need to finish her sentence because everyone was well aware of what had happened to Harry.

"I see," said Kingsley pensively, staring at Harry. "Why did you and Ron go to that place and what exactly happened?"

"We got an anonymous tip of Death Eater activity. We went to the flat we were tipped off about, we checked the door for any traps, Harry opened it, and the next thing I know, he was falling down the stairs," answered Ron.

"Anyway, that wasn't the end of it. I've got two notes addressed to me, as well," said Harry, "written on Dumbledore's handwriting. The other says I passed the test, which, apparently, was the attack, and the other tells Ginny and I to have lunch in the Three Broomsticks. And there's a phrase on the first note that's really bothering me. It's one of the last things Dumbledore told me before he died, and there's _no one_ who heard it, except for me, and I hadn't told anyone about it before today."

"What if you don't go to Three Broomsticks?" asked Arthur nervously, looking from Harry to Ron, who exchanged dark looks.

"The note said we wouldn't like a repeat of yesterday," answered Harry, "but I doubt they'll attack me this time. It'd be much harder to do it again, now that I know to be more careful, but they've already proved they know where to find your entire family. That's why I wanted you here.

"You need to be careful, Arthur. Ron and I will warn Percy, George, Bill and Charlie, and Ron and Hermione will be spending most of the day with Molly. You're on the same floor with Aurors, but be wary of anything that looks suspicious." Harry was completely serious, and Ginny suddenly understood just why Ron had immediately told her that she needed Harry's help. At the moment, it was obvious Harry knew what he was talking about. He had the air of a trained, experienced professional, and Ginny knew that her father would do exactly as Harry suggested.

"It might be best if you took a little holiday right now, actually," Harry continued, "because if you're at home, it would be easier for us to keep you safe. It would be far too easy to enchant a Muggle object to kill you, or to give a tip to lure you out."

"I agree with Harry, Dad," Ron piped up, "since Harry's probably the best Auror we have at the moment, and they managed to get him to St Mungo's, it'd be easy for them to hurt you. No offence."

"None taken," said Arthur with a small nod. "If you think it's for the best, I think I'll leave right now. Please, warn everyone else."

"Don't worry, Dad, we will. You just go home, I'll drop by later," said Ron. "Send us a Patronus when you get to the Burrow so we'll know you got there safely."

Arthur hugged his daughter, told everyone to be careful and left, looking quite worried.

"Hermione and I will be spending most of the day with Mum?" Ron turned in on Harry as soon as Arthur had closed the door. Harry shrugged at his friend.

"We need to arrange tighter wards around the Burrow, and you need to design them. They need to be ready as soon as possible, so you need to start today," he explained. "Besides, I figured it wouldn't hurt to have an Auror there, just in case."

Ron was apparently satisfied with this, since he didn't argue.

"Kingsley, when I said I need your permission for something, I was talking about wards. The Weasleys you already know about, but I want Andromeda and Teddy to have the strongest possible wards, as well. And it has to be something that will make sure that whoever even comes near their house with malicious intent will never even think of doing it again," said Harry grimly.

"You mean you won't be satisfied with wards that just keep the intruders out?" asked Kingsley. Harry nodded in response, and the older man stared at him long and hard.

"Make sure it's not lethal, and that there will be a trigger to whatever it is the wards will do, to protect innocent passers-by," he finally said.

"I promise I will," said Harry. "Thank you, sir. Unless you have something you want to discuss, I won't keep you longer."

"I think I'll be leaving now," Kingsley said as he got up. He halted as he got to the door and turned back to face Harry. "When this is over, you're taking a vacation and you'll _rest._ A week of not working would do wonders for you. And be careful, all right?"

Harry nodded, smiling slightly, and Kingsley left.

It hadn't been long after Harry started working for the Ministry that he had noticed Kingsley was paying much more attention to him than any other Auror. When he had asked the man about it, the response had surprised him: Kingsley had invited him for a drink.

Harry had accepted the offer, and over the drinks, they had talked about Remus. Kingsley had told him a lot of what the werewolf had been doing while Harry, Ron and Hermione had been looking for the Horcruxes. Harry had known that Remus and Kingsley had spent time with each other, since they had been hosting the Potterwatch together, and he had already known they had been friends, but still, Kingsley's description of what had happened at the Battle of Hogwarts had shocked him slightly.

The last thing Remus had said to Kingsley before they joined to the fight had been a plea to look after Harry and Teddy. He had died shortly after. Apparently, Kingsley had taken the promise he had given to the werewolf seriously, since he was watching over Harry so closely.

"Right," said Harry, shaking himself out of his reverie, "Ron and Ginny, you need to start writing to your brothers. Tell them you'll explain tomorrow at the dinner."

"And what will you be doing?" asked Ginny, staring at Harry with a look he couldn't quite interpret.

"I need to visit Teddy and Andromeda. They deserve to know what's going on so they know to be careful, and their wards need to be strengthened," Harry explained. "Gin, stay with Ron, he'll look after you. Leave me a note if you go somewhere, so I'll know where to find you. I'll try to get back soon."

With that, Harry walked out of the office, not looking at anyone or saying goodbye.

"The sofa's there because Harry spends the night here sometimes, isn't it?" Ginny asked quietly after a while of silence. Ron and Hermione didn't ask how she had come to that conclusion, they both just nodded mutely.

Ginny stared at the bare desk mournfully, knowing it was her fault it was like that. Harry's cubicle had been full of personal things. She could recall a picture of the two of them on a picnic, a few posters of Muggle movies they had watched together, a picture of Harry's parents, Sirius and Remus in James and Lily's wedding, photos of Teddy and a lot of other things, and now... Nothing.

The office on Harry's side lacked all personality, and Ginny thought it looked like Harry's life: he had taken out everything that wasn't absolutely necessary. And it was all her fault.

x-x

As soon as Harry had Apparated to the road that led to Andromeda Tonks's house, he knew something was wrong. Knowing Ron would kill him if he ever found out, Harry ran right inside, opening the door with a bang and halting only when he saw the chaos inside.

Everything that would break was shattered, books and clothes strewn across the floor, Teddy's toys thrown around and mostly in pieces. Harry felt the panic slowly spreading inside him. He couldn't move, he didn't want to see what would wait him further inside. If something had happened to Teddy, he would never forgive himself. Whatever he had done to get these people after him had nothing to do with his godson.

His brain simply refused to function; he had no idea what to do now. Should he contact Ron and ask him to come here? No, it wouldn't be good, since he'd bring Ginny with him. But he shouldn't go through the mess alone, either, since there could still be someone around. Maybe he should go to St Mungo's to see if Andromeda and Teddy were there?

He had seen too many situations like this, he decided. He didn't want to go upstairs and find a bloody mess that used to be his godson, or the still form of a little boy who seemed to be just asleep. The possibilities were endless, and it seemed his imagination was determined to go through them all. Harry was just on the verge of throwing up when he heard a delighted shriek from the garden behind him. He turned around to see Teddy and Andromeda on the gate, both looking happily surprised. Obviously excited to see his godfather, Teddy ran right to him. Harry hastily stepped out of the house and closed the door so the little boy wouldn't see the chaos inside.

"Harry! Dear boy, you should have told me you were coming, the house is all messy and I haven't got any food prepared," Andromeda said as she walked to Harry, smiling widely. "You're looking a little ill, is everything all right?"

"No, everything's not all right. First of all – I'm so glad to see you're both safe and sound," Harry started, his voice trembling, "and second, I'm really sorry, this is all my fault." He picked up Teddy from the ground and hugged him tightly. Andromeda put a comforting hand on his shoulder as she noticed how distressed Harry was.

"What's happened?" she asked, concerned. Harry took a deep breath to compose himself.

"Someone broke into your house. It's a long story, but it really isn't safe here anymore – could you stay away from here until we've repaired the house and given you better wards?" he asked, knowing he was practically pleading. "You could go to the Burrow, or I could give you my flat, but just move somewhere safe for a while, please? I don't want anything to happen to you."

Andromeda stared at him, taken aback. Harry didn't usually act like this.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"Come to the Ministry with me, we can talk there. Or actually, if you take Teddy and go now, I'll come right after you. Ron's in our office with Hermione and Ginny, they can start explaining. I just need to look for something," he said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to get his thoughts back on track. He took another deep breath, calming himself down. Teddy and Andromeda were fine. Searching their house was his job, and he could do it. He could do this.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Andromeda asked quietly, taking Teddy from Harry. Even the five-year-old was staring at Harry worriedly. Harry nodded and gave the pair a tight smile.

"I'm fine. Seriously, I was just worried about you. The chaos inside is nothing I haven't seen before. Go to the Ministry, you know where our office is. I'll come in a few minutes. If Ron panics, tell him I can still do my job," he told her, gaining back his confidence as he spoke.

"If it'll just take a few minutes, Teddy and I can wait here for you," Andromeda insisted, "there's no need for you to do this alone." Harry shook his head, adamant.

"Please, Andromeda, this is my job. I was trained for these sort of things. I can handle it. There might still be someone inside, and that's no situation for Teddy to get in," he said. Finally Andromeda relented, Disapparating with a stern promise to send a battalion of Aurors after him if he hadn't arrived to the Ministry in twenty minutes.

Harry slowly walked back to the house, first going through all revealing spells he could think of. There were no enchantments or curses on the house, no people inside it – or at least, no one alive, but since Teddy and Andromeda were fine, Harry doubted he would find anyone dead.

He slowly walked to the kitchen, following a gut instinct. Like he had suspected, on the centre of the kitchen table was the next note, neatly rolled into a scroll with a wax seal on it. When Harry picked it up and inspected it closer, he realised the seal had the Hogwarts crest. Dumbledore's letters had all had it, so Harry figured it would be addressed to him again. Breaking the seal and reading the letter proved him right, but not on all points.

_Dear Harry,_

_Congratulations on figuring out what we were doing. We would have suggested owling them, but your way was better, we're impressed! That house call most likely saved their lives._

_Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you into the Tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're going to hurt you. Keep your eyes open, particularly tomorrow._

They had changed the handwriting; it was Sirius's this time.


	3. Chapter 3: Rising Stakes

**Chapter 3 – Rising Stakes**

"Harry, what's going on? Andromeda said you sent her here because someone broke into her house – are you all right?" Ron cut his angry tirade short before it had really even begun, once he saw Harry's pale face and realised his friend's hands were actually shaking.

Wordlessly, Harry walked behind his desk and sank into his chair. Ginny, Hermione and Andromeda, with little Teddy on her lap, were sitting on the sofa; Ron had been pacing the floor, waiting for Harry to get back. They were all staring at Harry now with expressions varying from blatant shock to concern.

It took him less than half a minute to sit up straight and get his mind back on the matter at hand. This wasn't the time to break down, he reminded himself as he shook his hands, trying to keep them from shaking anymore, because it wasn't just his own life at stake anymore.

"Andromeda, I know I promised to tell you what's going on, but I don't think Teddy is quite old enough for that yet," he said. Andromeda nodded gravely, knowing that anything that shocked Harry so wasn't good news. She, too, had kept an eye on him for as long as she had known him, and had found out that he was made of stronger stuff than most people.

"I was just about to leave for the Burrow, I could take Teddy with me. Molly and I could watch over him for you," Hermione offered. The older woman smiled slightly.

"Thank you. I think I can trust you to take good care of him," she said. "Well, dear, it's time for you to leave," she added, speaking to Teddy.

"Wait a minute," said Harry, getting up and walking to the sofa, giving a rare real grin for his godson.

"Hi there, little tyke," he said softly. Teddy grinned widely at him.

"Hello, Uncle Harry," he replied. "Will you be coming to live with us at the Burrow?"

"No, I'm afraid I can't. Too much work to do at the moment," Harry said ruefully. "But I'll visit you."

"That's good, 'cause you haven't taught me to ride a broom yet like you promised." At this point, Harry glanced nervously at Andromeda, but the woman just smiled at him.

"I'll teach you soon, I swear," Harry said, his smile growing wider, "but in the mean time, I brought something for you from your house."

He dug out a worn teddy bear from the inside of his robes. Teddy squealed in delight as he saw it.

"Teddy Bear!" he cried out happily, reaching for the toy. Harry had been surprised to find it there, since Teddy never left anywhere without his beloved Mr Teddy Bear. He had been even more surprised to realise that it was the only thing in the entire house that wasn't broken.

"Where did you find that, Harry? Teddy's been looking for Mr Bear for days," Andromeda said, appearing very surprised. The first alarm bells went off in Harry's head and his eyes felt glued to his godson. He hadn't checked the toy for enchantments. It was one of the simplest rules the Aurors had to abide, and he had forgotten it.

"He lost it?" asked Harry, and his stomach wrung itself in tight knots when Andromeda shook her head.

"He takes that bear everywhere, and always has it with him when he goes to sleep. One morning we just couldn't find it, although I'm sure he had it when he went to bed," replied Andromeda. "It was the weirdest thing. Where was it?"

"Teddy, I think something might be wrong with Mr Bear. Can I see him for just a second?" Harry asked from the little boy who was playing with his toy, excited to have it back. Teddy's eyes widened as Harry's words sank in.

"Wrong?" he asked in a solemn whisper. Harry nodded.

"I'll fix him, I promise," he swore, and Teddy handed him the bear, obviously quite concerned for his friend's health.

Harry ran his wand over it quickly, and when the toy glowed in all colours of the rainbow once he was through with it, he felt like throwing up. Each colour represented a different dangerous spell: it looked like he had just almost killed his godson. Ron was right – he was nowhere near paranoid enough.

"Is there something wrong with Teddy Bear?" asked Teddy quietly, staring at Harry's pale face.

"Nothing I can't fix," Harry replied, getting up and doing a few more enchantments on it, to learn more about the curses. They were all set up to start with a trigger – apparently a verbal one – but it was impossible to say what word would trigger the hexes. It seemed it was the same word for all of them.

"Harry? What's wrong with it?" asked Ron, curiously looking over Harry's shoulder as Harry hurried to his desk and placed the toy on it, undoing the enchantments in quick session, appalled at what he was seeing. This was a trap meant for an innocent five-year-old boy, who had no way to defend himself against the curses. It would have killed Teddy for sure.

"That's not good," muttered Ron, swearing under his breath. Harry snorted.

"Oh really?" he retorted sarcastically before getting back to muttering the counter-curses under his breath to make the teddy bear safe.

"What's wrong with it, Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked from the couch, walking to Harry's desk. Harry almost shouted out loud for Ron to take Teddy away from him and the cursed toy, but fortunately Ron realised it without Harry telling him. He scooped the little boy up and walked as far away as he could from Harry's desk without leaving the room.

"What Mr Bear has is contagious, you're safer a little further away," Ron explained gently as Teddy protested at being taken away from his godfather.

"But why's Uncle Harry there? Isn't it dangerous for him?" asked Teddy, now looking slightly frightened.

"I'll be fine, Teddy, you know me," Harry called to him cheekily from across the room, "I know what I'm doing."

Hermione, Ginny and Andromeda were all anxious as they saw the two Aurors so tense. They had all been taken aback by the sudden change in his behaviour – first he was fine, cheerful and joking with his godson, then very concerned and tense, and now he seemed absolutely furious.

"There," announced Harry suddenly, "it should be fine now." He ran his wand over the bear again, and this time there were no bright lights. It was just a worn toy, not a dangerous dark object anymore. He double-checked just to be sure, but it was clean.

Because he didn't want Teddy to have anything dangerous, he checked the toy once more for all enchantments, not just Dark curses. It wasn't a Portkey, there were no other enchantments; it really was fine.

"You can have him back now, Teddy," Harry said, turning to face the others, who were staring at him worriedly. "There's nothing wrong with him anymore."

"Hermione, could you take him to the Burrow now? I'll fill you in later," he said to his friend. Hermione nodded and got up instantly from the couch. Teddy hesitantly walked to Harry.

"It's okay, mate. He's fine now," Harry said, kneeling down so he was on Teddy's eye level.

"Thank you, Uncle Harry," Teddy said with a smile, taking Mr Bear from his godfather. "Will you come to the Burrow to visit me soon?"

"Yes, I'll be there later today," Harry said, giving the boy a hug and then getting up. "You'll be a good boy and be nice to the Weasleys, won't you?"

"I will," Teddy said, still staring at Harry even when Hermione took his hand and started guiding him towards the door. "Are you really coming today?"

"Of course. When have I ever lied to you?" Harry asked with a chuckle. Teddy grinned and waved at everyone, finally allowing Hermione to pull him through the door.

As soon as the door had clicked closed behind them, Harry sank to his chair, obviously exhausted.

"What the hell was wrong with that teddy bear?" asked Ron, as shocked as Harry had been to see the colours on it. Harry sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"You didn't see even half of the curses, Ron," he said quietly. "Even one of them would have been lethal, and there were as many as could be put on it."

"Someone tried to kill my grandson?" Andromeda asked, horrified. Harry nodded solemnly, and started telling her what had happened during the last few days. Andromeda listened quietly until he finished.

"Oh, and Ron – there was another note," Harry added to his tale. He handed the note to Ron, whose jaw was hanging open by the time he finished.

"They're dropping the pretences after this. They won't play with us, just attack, unless they really want us to do something," Harry said darkly. Ron seemed to be incapable of talking, just passed the note on to Ginny and Andromeda.

"The previous notes were personal, with twisted versions of Dumbledore's words. What's the deal with this?" Ginny asked, frowning. "The threats are clear, but I can't see how this is supposed to be personal."

"That's Sirius's handwriting," Harry started, "and the letter is almost exactly the same as one I got from Sirius after the first task in the Triwizard Tournament. Or at least I think it is, I'm not sure since it was so long ago. I'm fairly certain, though."

"I thought it looked familiar," Andromeda said quietly. "How do they know all these things?"

"No idea," Harry admitted with another deep sigh. "I told you all this because it's really important for you to be careful. They've tried to kill you and Teddy – or at least Teddy – twice now. First time when they went to your house, and I think the second one, cursing Teddy's favourite toy, was an attempt to do it despite of my interruption."

"Do you think they'll come after us again?" Andromeda asked, her fear showing plainly on her face.

"I wish I could say that you're safe, but I honestly don't know yet," Harry replied ruefully. "We know nothing about what these people want. The Burrow will be warded so well that whoever tries to break in won't know what hit them, and we'll organise some sort of a guard, too. You should be safe there."

"Have you asked Molly and Arthur about Teddy and I staying there?" asked Andromeda, getting up from the sofa to leave.

"My mother absolutely adores Teddy and dad knows what's going on. It'll be fine," replied Ron. Harry knew Andromeda would deduce that they hadn't asked but were just assuming that the Weasleys wouldn't mind.

"But like I said earlier, there's room in my flat, too," Harry added with a small smile. Andromeda chuckled at this.

"Harry, dear boy, I've been to your flat," she said with a wide smile. "I know there scarcely is room for you."

"Well, I'd make room," Harry amended, grinning, but quickly turning serious. "Please look after yourself."

"You too," Andromeda replied grimly. "And the next time you get hurt like that, make sure you tell me!"

"I will," Harry said, even though he knew he wouldn't, unless he would need to stay in St Mungo's over the night.

"Liar," Andromeda chided him gently. "You should start taking care of yourself, dear. At least now that you're looking after Ginny you won't be sleeping here. Make sure he eats, Ginny."

"I'll try," Ginny offered. Harry shot Andromeda an exasperated look and she smirked at him, confirming his suspicions. She knew of the tension between Harry and Ginny and apparently enjoyed tormenting Harry a little.

"But I must leave now, so Molly and Hermione won't have to watch Teddy for too long. Be careful, all of you, especially you, Harry," she said, now showing her concern again. Harry nodded but didn't say anything as she left.

There was a thick silence in the office while Ron, Harry and Ginny were all lost in their thoughts. What had almost happened to his godson and Andromeda bothered Harry greatly; he felt guilty about it to the point of feeling physically ill. There was nothing he had come to loath more than people dying for something that was linked at him.

He was part of this now, there was no denying it anymore; if it proved too difficult for him, he wouldn't be able to just ask for a new assignment. Everyone he cared about would still be in danger, and at the moment, it seemed someone might die just because he was their friend. Again.

"I don't know if I can handle this again," said Harry aloud, speaking to Ron, who jumped slightly at the sudden sound.

"Yeah, it does seem familiar, doesn't it?" he asked, shaking his head slightly, angry at the injustice. "Kill his friends, the more the better."

"Yeah. Do you think there's any way I could persuade your entire family to move to Australia for a while?" Harry asked, not entirely joking. Ron chuckled and shook his head.

"Do you think they pulled Ginny into this just to hurt you?" he asked quietly after a while. Harry shook his head slowly.

"At the minute, I don't really know what to think, but for some reason the idea seems odd. They tried to kill me, they put dozens of lethal curses on that teddy bear, but they haven't done anything to her yet," he said thoughtfully. "Well, there was that incident with her broom, but to a professional Quidditch player, that's more annoying than dangerous."

"I don't know what it'd be like in your world, Harry, but in the one I live in, it's a damn lot more than annoying," Ginny piped up, irritated at the two men talking about her like that while she was present.

"I understand it's disturbing, to be sabotaged like that, and trust me, I know it hurts to fall off a broom. But you've been a professional for years, obviously they've taught you what to do when you fall to minimise injuries. If they had wanted to kill you, there would have been another curse on your broom," Harry told her.

"I'm sorry if you think I'm underestimating your troubles – I'm not. I just think they proved they could have killed you but they didn't, which you should actually be grateful for. They've just tried to kill my godson and what's left of his family. Again, I apologise for the unprofessional behaviour, but at the moment I'm a little more concerned about what happened there, as well as the fact that judging by the latest note, they'll be going after more people who I care about, which includes your entire family."

Harry's patience was wearing thin – even though Ginny had a point, he thought it should have been obvious that he thought that what had happened to her hadn't been a minor inconvenience for her. The very real threat on everyone else was his main concern at the moment, which, judging by the look on her face, Ginny had known, too.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Ron to break the tense silence in the office. Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to think.

"I think you should go and warn your brothers in person. And the wards for the Burrow need to be ready as soon as possible, so we need to do that now, too," he replied. "We also need to figure out who we're dealing with and what the hell we've done to get these people after us, how they know all this stuff and what they want."

Harry knew Ron knew all this, but they always listed the things they needed to do before they started actually doing anything, just to make sure they covered everything.

"I need to drop by the flat to pick up a few potions, then Ginny and I will be heading to the Burrow. Unless you think you need a hand with your brothers?" Harry asked. "And I guess we'll need to tell Robards what we're working on."

Gawain Robards had been the Head of the Auror Office ever since Scrimgeour had become the Minister. Even though the man was technically their boss, he treated Harry and Ron more like his equals. It was mostly because of their reputations – Robards had seen them in action and knew the talk about their talents wasn't all folk tale.

Harry knew that to an outsider this may have seemed like Robards was a spineless, star-struck idiot, but in reality he was nothing like that. He knew that the two young Aurors knew what they were doing, and even though they didn't always strictly follow the rules and sometimes went along with their instincts rather than logic, they had so far always caught the right culprits.

"I'll handle Robards and visit my brothers, you go and get your Potions. And when you get to the Burrow, take a nap. You look like you could use some sleep," Ron said. He looked at Harry thoughtfully for a while, then turned to Ginny. "Tell Mum I said Harry needs to rest."

"Ron!" Harry protested, irritated. Ron turned to look at him, quirking an eyebrow, and he sighed. He knew Ron wouldn't back off.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he rests," Ginny said. Harry could hear from her tones that she didn't mean it, and tried to fight the urge to grin.

If he had thought about it, he would have been fairly disappointed to realise that if Ginny had cared about him like she used to, she would have really made sure he got enough rest with the injury he had. As it was, he thought it was refreshing he wouldn't have to argue with everyone to get everything done on time.

x-x

"_Morning, mate," Ron greeted him cheerfully when he stepped into Harry's cubicle. "What are we working on today?"_

_The redhead froze when he saw the pile of files on Harry's desk._

"_What's happened? Why do we have that many cases?" Ron just couldn't stop staring at the pile on the desk. "Bloody buggering hell, Hermione's going to kill me if we have to do all that today and I'll come home after midnight."_

"_I asked for all this. You can leave early, I'll finish it." Harry's statement seemed to shock Ron even more, for he finally tore his gaze away from the pile of files and concentrated on Harry instead._

"_You look like hell." The worried, heartfelt statement broke the heavy silence that had fallen between the two friends. "What's going on with you?"_

"_Did you read the Prophet today?" Harry kept his tones casual and light, and smiled when Ron shook his head. "I thought so. I think your dad left it for you to see."_

_Ron just walked to his own cubicle that was next to Harry's and grabbed the newspaper that someone, presumably his father like Harry had said, had thrown on his desk. The headline had been underlined with red ink, apparently by one of his parents, and it felt like someone had knocked the breath out of him._

'**The Chosen One is Eligible Again!**

Ginevra Weasley, the youngest Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, has informed that she and Harry Potter are no longer an item.

In a statement released by her publicist, Weasley says 'parting ways was just the best solution in our situation. Although Harry has never been anything but supportive, our relationship has now turned into an unwelcome distraction from Quidditch'.

Weasley also said that she will not comment on the matter again and wishes that both she and Mr Potter could deal with the break up in private. (cont. page 4, the full press release on page 3.)'

_Ron's yell of outrage and shock was heard thorough the floor. Harry felt much like joining in the shouting, but the sound, just like the tears, simply refused to come out._

x-x

The minute Harry stepped in to the Burrow, he had the air knocked out of him by his godson who had literally jumped to his arms. Harry was surprised to see Teddy was crying. Since Teddy was normally cheerful and didn't cry for little things, Harry was more concerned about him than about the pain in his abdomen.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked quietly from Teddy, who was holding on to him for dear life.

"Are you dying, Uncle Harry?" the little boy asked, not daring to look up, keeping his face pressed on Harry's shoulders.

"Dying?" Harry repeated, stunned. "No, not as far as I know, I'm not. Where did you hear that?"

He looked up and around the kitchen – Molly, Arthur, Hermione and Andromeda were all sitting around the table, staring at him. He glanced at Ginny, and realised that she, too, was looking at him, Harry, not Teddy. Apparently they had caught his reaction when Teddy hit the wound.

"Grandma said you would when she thought I wasn't listening. Promise me you won't die and leave me like my parents did," Teddy whispered, obviously frightened. Harry felt his throat constricting and hugged Teddy to him tighter.

He knew that feeling Teddy was talking about. When he was younger, he had often wondered why his parents had died and abandoned him and left him to the Dursleys. Sometimes he had been angry with them for that, but he had always known it wasn't their fault.

"You don't need to worry about that," Harry told him gently, "I promised to teach you to fly first, didn't I?"

Teddy stared at him, apparently not sure what to make of his attempt to lighten the mood.

"And when I've taught you to fly, I'll have to come and watch when you win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor on your first year, won't I?" asked Harry, putting extra effort into sounding thoughtful. He was rewarded when Teddy started cheering up noticeably. "And I guess I'll have to stick around to see you win the World Cup, too. And of course, I'll have to stay for years and years after that, so I get to brag that I was the one who taught you to fly."

"But until then, Teddy will be the one bragging you taught him to fly," Ginny interrupted the silence that threatened to fall after Harry's words. Teddy turned to look at her, apparently slightly confused. "Harry was the youngest Seeker in a century when he was in Hogwarts. He's a brilliant flier. I'm a professional, and I think he'd still out-fly me easily."

"Really?" Teddy was now very interested in Harry's flying abilities. "Why are you an Auror, then?"

"I like being an Auror. Playing Quidditch would be much too dangerous for my liking," Harry told him. Teddy, who had heard his grandmother telling Harry how she worried about his dangerous job countless of times, knew this was a joke and giggled.

"And I think I'm good enough in what I do, so I don't need to change my profession," Harry continued.

"Why haven't you ever let me come to watch when you work? I know you have to be the best Auror there is, it'd be cool to see!" Teddy said, getting excited even at the thought. He started squirming and his elbow hit Harry straight into the middle of the wound in his stomach and chest. This time even Teddy noticed the grimace of pain on Harry's face.

"I'm sorry, but it would be much too dangerous," Harry said with a rueful smile. "And speaking about my job – Hermione and I need to take a walk."

When Harry gently put Teddy back on the floor, the little boy was left staring at him, obviously worried.

"Did I hurt you, Uncle Harry?" he asked solemnly. Harry shook his head.

"There was a little incident yesterday at work. I got a pretty nasty scratch on my stomach and I needed to visit the hospital. It still twinges a little every now and then. It did hurt now, yes, but it wasn't your fault," he replied, then turned to look to the people around the table.

"Hermione, I need to have a word with you," he said, and Hermione immediately got up. Harry glanced at Ginny, who seemed to be waiting for directions.

"Don't leave the house, and if Ron comes, warn me before I get in." The last part was clearly a joke, and Ginny laughed, shaking her head slightly.

"If you see me running, you'll know he's arrived," she retorted. Harry knew Ron wouldn't be happy at all to see that even though Ginny had promised him she'd make sure Harry rested, she really had done nothing of the sort.

"I won't see you running, since you're not going to leave the house. And don't stray anywhere alone, even inside the house. And not alone with Teddy, either," Harry quit the joking, getting back to the no-nonsense manner he had used in the office.

"Are you serious? I'm not allowed to leave the house or go alone anywhere _inside the house_?" Ginny asked, obviously shocked. Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm completely serious. Before the wards are upgraded, you're not going anywhere alone, inside or out. Actually, you're not going out without me or Ron," he told her. Ginny stared at him, not knowing what to say, clearly thinking he was paranoid.

"You thought your flat was safe. Don't give them a chance to prove you wrong again," Harry added, following Hermione out, happy that he didn't have to stay in the same room with the irritated redhead.

"You're being a little too hard on her," Hermione commented calmly. "She's not ten years old, she can look after herself."

"This is her home," Harry replied, "she's too relaxed here. She wouldn't take the threat seriously if I just let her run around where anyone can attack her."

Hermione shrugged as they kept walking, out of the garden and into the woods.

"Let's walk around the property. I want to see how big of an area we need to ward," Harry said lightly. "Did Molly say anything about me?"

"She seemed delighted that you were going to come. I think she's worried a lot about what she said to you," Hermione told him instantly. "Ron told you to rest, didn't he?"

"Yes. But I want to make sure we're safe here first," Harry retorted. "That means we need to get the wards done."

"You're in no condition to start enforcing wards," Hermione stated dryly. "You can design them, Ron and I'll get Bill and we'll do them."

"Right. This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about," Harry said. He quickly filled her in on what she had missed.

"And that's why it's important to keep Ginny somewhere there are a lot of people present. If she was pulled into this to hurt me – which I still doubt – they'd first get her close to me again and then get to her," he said.

Hermione nodded slowly, processing all the information she had received. While she thought over everything he had said, Harry had time to take in the surroundings. He was a little surprised that he couldn't see the Burrow anymore; the trees hid the building from view.

"You said it was Sirius's handwriting? A copy of the letter you got from him after the First Task?" asked Hermione after a while. Harry sighed.

"Yes. The only people who ever saw that were Sirius and the three of us." Harry was, of course, referring to himself, Hermione and Ron. "I'm beginning to think that these people have found a way of getting things out of me without my knowing, and it's a disturbing notion, to say the least."

"You think someone's been using Legilimency on you?" Hermione asked, frowning. Harry shook his head in response.

"No, I asked Kingsley to teach me Occlumency after the war. I know Legilimency, too, these days. He wanted me to learn it as an interrogation technique. You know, so we can make sure we're not locking up the wrong people," he told her. "I would've noticed if someone had tried to read my memories."

"It can't be something they've used to listen to you – like Extendable Ears – because these are things we don't usually talk about." It sounded like Hermione was thinking aloud. "Harry, what happened to Dumbledore's Pensieve?"

Harry stared at her, suddenly shocked. How could he have been so stupid? But if they had got to the Pensieve, they had got to his flat, and everything Ginny and he had just picked up from his flat was possibly dangerous.

"I knew you'd make me see it," he muttered quietly, then continued on a stronger voice: "We need to get back to the Burrow. _Now._"

"What – ?" Hermione was baffled once Harry started running to the house as fast as his feet would take him.

"Harry, you're not supposed to overexert yourself!" she called after him, frustrated.

x-x

Ron had just arrived to his childhood home when Harry burst in from the door, pale, slightly out of breath and obviously on edge. Ron looked to his sister and parents for some sort of an explanation, but it seemed they were all as perplexed as he was, perhaps even more so.

"Ginny, you didn't touch my bag, did you?" Harry asked as soon as he saw she was there, sounding very stressed. Ginny just shook her head mutely. Harry sighed in relief.

"Harry, what the hell is going on?" Ron asked, staring at his best mate in concern. "Where did you leave Hermione? I was told you were on a walk with her."

"She's coming. She just has shorter legs," Harry shrugged off Ron's worry. "She figured out how they've gotten all the information."

Now that Harry didn't have to worry about anyone getting hurt by the possibly dangerous objects he had brought to the Burrow, he was starting to get furious. They had broken into his house and looked at the memories in his Pensieve, obviously very carefully since they had picked up so many details. It was such an outrageous invasion of his privacy he was livid, but as if that wasn't enough, they had been using that information to try to kill the people he cared about.

If Harry hadn't been sure of it already, he was now: these people were going to spend the rest of their lives in Azkaban. In the darkest, coldest cells, if he got a say.

He needed something to take the anger out on, so he picked up his bag from the floor and promptly emptied it on the sink.

"Harry, what on earth are you doing?" Molly asked, apparently slightly frightened of Harry in this state. Harry didn't answer, just ran his wand over each and every item in turn.

Nothing was cursed, but the medical Potions didn't smell right. Harry cursed fiercely under his breath. He had almost poisoned himself. Of course, it had been so easy: they hadn't messed up his flat the way they had destroyed Andromeda's house, because that would have brought more harm to them than scared him. They had just continued their visits to his Pensieve while he conveniently spent so much time away at work, so sure of his wards he hadn't even thought to check if anything was astray.

And since he hadn't noticed before, why would he notice now? Why would he be suspicious of the potions when nothing else had been wrong with the things in his place? Of course even the thought of breaking into his flat had been out of consideration altogether. He was the famous Harry Potter, the most powerful wizard alive, almost almighty, surely they wouldn't dare to break into his flat, he had thought. Apparently, he was also the most arrogant wizard alive.

"You keep your Pensieve in your flat!" Harry turned around at Hermione's voice. She had finally reached the house, and stood in the doorway of the kitchen, slightly disarrayed and out of breath.

"Ron, ask Bill to come here and make sure _no one _can get inside the wards without us knowing. You heard what I asked from Kingsley," Harry said, glancing at Ron, who was wearing an expression of dawning comprehension.

"Hermione – you're right, that's where I keep it. Now that you're here, find out what's been done to these," here Harry gestured to the Potion flagons, "but be careful, I think they've got poison in them."

"I'll be back in a minute, I have a few pressing matters to take care of." Harry was half-way out of the door again when Ron, who had quickly walked after him across the room, took a firm hold of his shoulder.

"Harry, _what is going on_?" Ron pronounced the words slowly and forcefully, demanding to know.

"Didn't I just say Hermione figured out where they got their information? They've been sneaking into my flat and snooping around in my Pensieve. Because of my infinite stupidity, your entire family is in mortal peril – _again –_ and half an hour ago, my godson came this close," Harry held out his thumb and forefinger, which were all but pressed together, "to dying, because of me!"

Harry realised he was shouting and probably frightening the five-year-old who had been playing with his teddy bear on the floor of the kitchen, as well as shocking the adults, but at the moment the guilt was a little too much for him to handle without blowing up.

"And I just almost poisoned myself, but aside from that, nothing much is going on," he added sardonically.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked quietly, ignoring the remark. Harry shrugged.

"To blow up something. Go and look through my Pensieve to see what they've found out. Make entirely new wards on my flat. Visit St Mungo's to get new Potions," he listed off, shaking Ron's hand off his shoulder.

"Ginny, go with Harry and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Ron said, staring at Harry intently. Harry wasn't sure whether Ron was angry or if it was something else, but he supposed he was about to find out.

"No, Ginny, sit down," Harry snapped, staring at Ron through narrowed eyes. "What did you tell Robards? About what we're doing?"

"I said we're investigating the threats Ginny has received and that you're her bodyguard for the time being." If the situation hadn't been so charged already, Harry might have chuckled at the reaction Ron's words got out of Molly. Apparently, she hadn't been told in detail what was going on.

"I was just making sure you haven't hired her as your personal assistant. She's with us because she's in danger, not because I need someone to babysit me," Harry told Ron shortly. "And since I'm going somewhere that's possibly dangerous, she's _not_ coming along."

"You're not going alone!" Ron argued grimly. "After what happened yesterday – "

"Stop talking about yesterday!" Harry interrupted impatiently. "I've told you a thousand times since that, I can still do my job! I just didn't concentrate on what I was doing for _one _second; it was a mistake and I'm not about to do that again!"

"Oh yes, it was just a mistake that almost killed you, why should I pay any attention to that?" Ron retorted sarcastically. Harry shook his head, exasperated.

"You make mistakes all the time, too. Do you want me to make a list of all of the ones that could've killed you?" he asked sharply. "Everyone makes mistakes, it's a part of being human, and the last time I checked, it wasn't compulsory for Aurors to be inhuman!"

"Stop quoting Dumbledore when you're arguing with me! I'm not saying you're supposed to be inhuman, I'm saying that you were injured yesterday and you're supposed to be on bed rest!" The volume of their argument had been steadily growing, and they had now reached the point where it had turned into a shouting match. Harry quickly put a stop to the shouting, as Ron's comment about Dumbledore had been inappropriate and Harry had very little patience for that left.

He Silenced his best mate, which earned a few gasps from the spectators.

"Let's not drag every other argument into this, shall we?" he asked lightly as Ron furiously gestured at his throat to get Harry to release him from the spell. Harry ignored his efforts.

"We've known each other for over ten years and this is the first time you're this worried about me. I'd be really touched at your concern if I didn't know you're only so worried because you want me to live long enough to get Ginny out of this mess," he continued, still on the same light tones he knew infuriated Ron so much. "The last time I checked, I was still your boss, and unless you want me to re-assign you just to get you out of my hair, you'll stop that now. I told you earlier, I'll tolerate no more of 'she's my sister'.

"I'm tired of having to argue with you over every single thing I do today. If it's going to be like this the entire time, we won't be able to work together on this and it'd be a damn shame. You don't need to worry about what I'm doing and how I'm doing it, concentrate on what you're supposed to do and we'll be all right." Harry's manners had turned serious as he went on, and Ron had gone from angry to attentive.

"It's time we start acting instead of reacting, and I need you to keep your cool for that and _trust me_. Just because people we know are involved this time shouldn't make this job harder than the other gigs." Ron nodded ruefully in response, and Harry took off the spell.

"Oh, and sorry about that. You just weren't listening," he added. Ron chuckled.

"Yeah, no hard feelings. I'll try not to make you do that again," he said. "I'm sorry about this, it's just..."

"It's just the same problem you've had for the past few years, I know," Harry finished for his friend. "Just go get Bill and get started on the wards. I'll be back soon. You're in charge until then."

When Harry turned around and left the kitchen, Molly stood up promptly.

"Since when have you and Harry been arguing like that?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Don't start, Mum," Ron pleaded quietly. "It's... complicated." Ron glanced at Ginny as he said this, and suddenly everyone knew what had been damaging the relationship between Harry and Ron.

"I need to go get Bill. Ginny, in case Harry didn't say it before, don't leave the house and don't go anywhere alone." Ginny rolled her eyes but smiled slightly as Ron, too, walked out of the door.

"Grandma, why did Uncle Harry look like that?" Teddy asked quietly, the teddy bear lying forgotten on the floor next to him. Molly, Arthur, Ginny and Andromeda turned to the little boy as one, all surprised at the worried and frightened look on his face.

"What did he look like to you, dear?" Andromeda inquired gently, getting up from her seat and kneeling next to Teddy to gather the anxious boy in her arms.

"His shirt was red," Teddy stated. Nobody needed him to say more; everyone had realised Harry's wound had reopened.

x-x

When Harry got back to the Burrow, the first thing he noticed was the fact that the new wards were already up. Apparently Ron, Bill and Hermione had been keeping busy. He could literally feel the magical wall as he walked through it – as it was so solid, it was also powerful, and suddenly Harry was glad he hadn't tried to Apparate closer.

The next thing Harry realised was that he was all of a sudden standing nose-to-nose with an angry redhead. It was more than slightly disturbing that Ginny had sneaked up on him like that.

"I see you changed your shirt," she commented. If Harry hadn't known her better, he would have said she was just saying it, but the look in her eyes told him he was in trouble. He had a good idea what this was about, and decided not to say anything before she had confirmed his suspicions and only nodded mutely in response.

"Teddy noticed you were bleeding. Tell me, Harry, just how badly were you injured?" she asked, putting a hand on her hips, the other hand dangerously close to the pocket where she stored her wand.

"You already know I'm supposed to be on bed rest and that I have to take some medical Potions for a while. What else do you need to know?" Harry asked with a tired sigh. "When I went to St Mungo's to get the new potions, I also got that wound looked at. They stopped the bleeding and warned me to take it easier. Running wasn't such a good idea."

Ginny nodded slowly as he spoke, looking concerned.

"Listen, Harry, maybe this whole thing wasn't such a good idea. You're hurt and getting back to full health first is more important. I don't know how familiar with wizarding medicine you are these days, but if it's a cut that the Healers can't heal within twenty-four hours, it's serious," she slowly said, looking away from him, obviously uncomfortable. Harry couldn't help grinning widely.

"You don't really expect me to quit now, do you?" Ginny turned to look at him again when he spoke, and he saw she, too, was smiling.

"No, I don't, but Mum made me tell you that you should concentrate on yourself first," she replied. Harry shook his head, amused.

"I thought so," he told her, "since you know me better than that." Ginny nodded again.

"You won't stop working on this because there are more people involved now. If it was just me, you might consider it, but you'd never trust anyone else with Teddy's life," she said, staring into his eyes thoughtfully.

"No, I wouldn't even consider quitting if it was just you in danger," Harry corrected quietly, not yet ready to tear his gaze from her eyes even though he felt somewhat uncomfortable with the subject. "You know I still wouldn't trust anyone else with you."

"You should," Ginny retorted, breaking the eye contact as she suddenly became very interested in their shoes. "I practically ruined your life with the way I left. I've heard a lot about you after that."

"Ginny – " Harry tried to interrupt her, but she seemed determined on getting it out and shushed him impatiently.

"It's funny, in a way. I heard more about you after we broke up than I did when we were together. Ron and Hermione always talked about you, as did George and Mum. You were in the paper every single day," she told him quietly. "Ron, Hermione and George told me all about how miserable you were and that you just weren't yourself anymore, and at the same time I read from the papers of all the high-profile assignments you had completed.

"I was kind of glad to see you still had something to do. You always did like your job, but the way things are now... You work too much, Harry. I know most of that is my fault and I have no right to give you this speech, but I'm really worried for you. I'm sorry I messed things up for us and took your life with me when I left, I really am, but please, don't ruin your entire life because of me."

Harry still remembered vividly how she had left, and hadn't honestly thought she cared anymore, so he was very shocked to see Ginny pleading like this. There were tears in her eyes and her voice shook wildly as she spoke.

"Don't worry about me," Harry told her gently. "I'm fine. Honestly. I'm not working 'round the clock because I need to keep my mind off of things. I don't know if you've ever tried it, but I've found that even working endlessly won't keep my mind from wandering, and when I'm not concentrating on what I'm doing, bad things happen. Take yesterday, for example.

"I just work so much because I like it. It has a beginning, a clear objective, an ending and I more or less know what I'm doing. I know I could hang out with Ron and Hermione, but they have their own lives, too. You know what I mean – they're married and I doubt they'd appreciate having me there to bother them all the time. I could go to explore the nightlife in London, too, but I'd end up in the cover of Witch Weekly and I don't want that. Besides, that's no fun alone."

He didn't know why he was suddenly telling her so much, he had just meant to tell her that he was happy with his life. He had forgotten how easy it really was to talk to her; even with all the awkwardness between them, he had ended up telling her more of his reasoning to his unreasonable working hours than he had ever revealed to Ron.

"Ron and Hermione love you, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "They'd rather have you sleeping between them nightly than see you miserable."

"I know that. I just don't want them to sacrifice their lives to make sure I'm happy," Harry replied. "And why does everyone think I'm miserable? What happened two years ago hurt me, yes, but why does everyone act like I have a deadly illness these days? Ron, Hermione, your parents – everyone but George and Teddy, actually. The others give me more time to get over a break-up than to get over someone dying."

"Yeah, I know that feeling," Ginny agreed. "But I understand where they're coming from, too. When Fred, Remus and Tonks died, we were both heartbroken like everyone else, but we went on with our lives. After we broke up, I haven't even gone out with anyone else."

"Me neither," Harry said. "And it's not that I haven't come to terms with what happened, there's just no one..."

He let his voice fade out when he realised he was about to say "no one like you". Seeing that he was trying to prove he wasn't too hung up on her anymore, it might not have been the best thing to say.

"I know. There's no one quite like you, either," Ginny told him softly. He smiled again. She really did know him too well.

"It's good to be talking to you again, Harry," Ginny said after a while of comfortable silence. Harry nodded.

"It's good to be able to talk to you, too," he replied and she gave him a small but happy smile. The moment was broken when Ron opened the door with a bang, startling both Harry and Ginny.

"Ginny, don't leave like that! Didn't I tell you not to go outside without an Auror and to _never_ go anywhere alone?" Ron reprimanded his sister, obviously annoyed. "How are we supposed to protect you if you don't stick by such simple rules?"

He was about to continue, but froze when he saw Harry.

"You came out here after he arrived, didn't you?" he asked tiredly. Ginny nodded, obviously trying not to smile but fighting a losing battle. "Right. Forget what I just said. Are you all right now, Harry? You saw a Healer when you went to St Mungo's?"

"Yeah, I did. I'm fine now. I see you got the wards done," he commented, looking around again. Ron nodded.

"Yes. Bill and Hermione had plenty of good ideas – I'm glad they're on our side," Ron replied. "I'll tell you what we did later if you want to know. In the mean time, I think I need to warn you before I get in. Mum's rescheduled the family dinner."

"All your brothers have already arrived?" Harry asked, inwardly groaning. Ron nodded again.

"Yep, and they all want _you_ to explain what's going on. It looks like they won't trust us. They think we're pranking them or something," he explained with a shrug, obviously very irritated. It had always annoyed Ron to no end that his brothers didn't seem to take him seriously. Every time they had a question about his line of work or they needed some advice, they asked Harry instead of their brother.

Perhaps it was just hard to realise that Ron had grown up. He wasn't the gangly teenager most of them seemed to think he still was, too immature and inexperienced to be taken seriously. These days he could have beat his brothers in a duel blindfolded, could have told them stories about what he and Harry had done that would give them nightmares and was mature enough to feel no need for such things.

But the treatment Ron got from his brothers paled in comparison to how they acted towards Ginny. After Fred had died, everyone had felt guilty about it – Bill, Charlie and Percy more than most. They had thought that because Fred was their younger brother, they should have taken better care of him. Since they had let Fred down, as they had put it, they had sworn not to do the same mistake again. George had managed to tell his brothers to leave him alone, but Ron and especially Ginny hadn't been as successful.

Because Ginny was the youngest, or maybe because she had always been the only girl and their little Princess, Bill, Charlie and Percy treated her like a ten-year-old. In their eyes she was too young to decide what was good for her, too naïve to be let to the big, scary world on her own and dating would not be even taken into consideration.

When Ginny and Harry had been going out, they had been somewhat tolerable. Harry had been practically family for years so they had thought he could be trusted, but when Harry and Ginny had broken up the three oldest Weasley children had blamed Harry for it. _Obviously _Ginny wouldn't leave him unless he had done something to hurt her.

Since then, he had been just a friend of Ron's; a skilled Auror and important to their brother, but nothing more to them. They treated him accordingly: as an acquaintance but not a friend, tolerated him but didn't seem to like him very much.

And still, despite of that, the things that had anything to do with his job they asked him to do, not Ron.

"Anything else you might want to warn me about before we get in?" Harry asked, forcing his tones light. Ron nodded solemnly.

"The note at Andromeda's house and the warning about tomorrow. You do remember what day it is, don't you?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly. Harry frowned – no, he didn't remember, but he felt like he should. The answer came to him just as Ron was about to say it.

"It's the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts," the two said simultaneously. It was a very disturbing realisation, to say the least.


	4. Chapter 4: Enlightenment

**Chapter 4 – Enlightenment**

"So Ginny really is in danger?" Harry had explained the situation to Bill, Charlie, Percy and George, who were gathered in the living room of the Burrow, along with Harry himself, Andromeda, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Molly and Arthur. Teddy was asleep upstairs.

"Yes, but I think you have kind of missed the point. Ginny isn't the only one in danger, Bill. Your entire family is threatened at the moment," Harry told the redhead, exasperated. If they were going to insist that they could handle themselves and order him to concentrate on protecting their sister, he was going to hex the lot of them.

"We got that part, Harry, but Ginny's a young woman living alone, it's different with her," Charlie argued. Harry sighed. This wasn't going well at all.

"Do you think you would make a better Auror than me or Ron?" he asked snappishly. They really had no time for this. Charlie and Bill exchanged bewildered looks at the question, then slowly shook their heads.

"I thought so. You aren't trained for this kind of thing, so you need to listen to us because we know what we're talking about. I can assure you that Ginny isn't in any more danger than you are. Actually, she's quite probably safer than you are, since at the moment she's under my protection and she acknowledges the peril. I wouldn't say you need to be careful if I didn't mean it." The two eldest Weasley children still looked doubtful, and Ginny jumped up from the armchair she was sitting in.

"You need to take this seriously! This isn't just some obsessed fan we're dealing with – these people have already tried to kill Harry and Teddy! Since you don't have Harry protecting you, they'd probably get you if they wanted to!" Ginny wasn't quite shouting, but she was very close.

"Ginny, could you please keep it down? Teddy's trying to sleep," Harry interrupted tersely. Ginny shot him a filthy look but sank back to her seat.

"She is absolutely right, though. You have to take this seriously. Bill, do you remember how strong the wards around my flat were? Or Andromeda's house? Or Ginny's flat, for that matter? These people broke through all those wards more than once without any of us noticing," he continued. "Charlie, since so far there have been no dragons involved, I can't impress you with something like that, so you're going to have to trust us. We're not joking.

"You're all supposed to be adults now, and Bill, you have children of your own. I can't tell you what to do, but I'm asking you to use your common sense. I know none of you is stupid enough to let a warning like this slide."

Perhaps it was seeing Harry so grim and maybe just a little desperate that did the trick, or then it was the reference to Bill's daughter, Victoire, but either way, Bill and Charlie both seemed to realise that this was no trick, this thing was for real.

"Now that we've established that, there are a few things we need to go through. The latest note warned us that something would happen tomorrow, and as I'm sure you're all aware, tomorrow's the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. If you get a letter that feels odd, or a package that seems out of place, or see anything suspicious at all, tell us _immediately_. We need to know about everything abnormal," Ron said seriously.

"If you receive a letter that's written on the handwriting of a, say, dead relative or a friend, that'll be what we're looking for," Harry added. "If you get a package, don't touch it before we get there, and whatever you do, don't open it."

"Dead relative or a friend? You're talking about Fred, aren't you?" asked George quietly. While the absence of a grin on his friend's face didn't really worry Harry, considering the circumstances, the paleness of George's face and the haunted look in his eyes did. Harry nodded slowly.

"Yes. Fred, Tonks, Remus – people who died five years ago, especially Fred, since he was so close to you," he replied. The expressions on everyone's faces, the looks from heartbreaking grief and agony to fury, were strengthening Harry's resolve to make sure that whoever was behind this was going to pay. These people had been through enough before now.

"It's sick," George announced, his voice shaking violently, "that they're twisting the memories of the people we loved to intimidate us. If I could have had a letter from Fred – something else for his last words to me than 'see you later' – it would have been..."

George's voice faded out as he couldn't find words powerful enough to describe what one last message from Fred would have meant to him.

"But now, if I did find a note that really was from him, something that he wrote five years ago because he was feeling sentimental – which we all know is unlikely since Fred never felt sentimental – I'd have to call the Aurors," he continued harshly. Everyone could see he was practically choking on tears, and Harry suddenly felt like bolting from the room. He knew what was coming next, for he had talked about the subject countless times with George before now.

"And don't you dare say a word now, Harry," George said after a short silence, the words somewhat unkind but his tones gentle. "Not a word."

"I don't need to say anything, because you already know what I'd say," Harry told him quietly. "We've had the same conversation too many times."

"I suppose. And I still can't understand how I always end up waiting for you to turn into Dumbledore when I close my eyes for a second," George retorted with a quiet chuckle. "Seriously, it's creepy how Harry's always right. I swear, he knows everything!"

"I wish I could channel Dumbledore," Harry said wistfully, shaking his head slightly. "He really did know _everything_. Had a plan for everything, too. I loathed it sometimes, but he always knew just what to do, what to say and what strings to pull so that everything would work out like he wanted."

There was another awkward silence. Everyone knew Harry meant more than he was saying, but no one could quite figure out what it was. Hermione and Ron had a very good idea, since this sounded very familiar to them.

"Anyway, you need to be on guard, all of you. We don't need anyone else injured," Harry warned them all again. Bill, Charlie, George and Percy, who hadn't been there earlier to see and hear how badly Harry had been injured, sat up straighter.

"Anyone else?" Percy, who had so far been very quiet, asked sharply. "Who has been injured?"

"Harry," Molly answered, glancing at the raven haired young man standing in the middle of her sitting room. "He told you he was attacked yesterday, but he downplayed it quite a bit. To keep us from worrying, possibly."

"Harry? You're hurt? That's why Hermione came to tell me that you wouldn't drop by like we had agreed?" George asked, rising up from his chair. "Why didn't anyone tell me? What happened?"

"Because Ron and Hermione probably didn't think about it and I was unconscious," Harry said shortly. "Like I said earlier, we got a tip about Death Eaters and went to investigate. I opened a door, I was hit by a curse and consequently, I was blasted backwards so I flew down a flight of stairs. I was out cold for a few hours, I have a few Potions I need to take, but I'm fine."

"Were you what Minister Shacklebolt was grumbling about the whole day? You were supposed to be on sick leave for at least a week and you still came to work this morning?" Percy asked, staring at Harry pensively.

"Yeah, but he's agreed to take it easy for now to keep himself from being hurt worse," Ginny piped up, suddenly very defensive of Harry. "Drop it for now, all right?"

"Harry, Ron, was that all for now?" Molly asked, noticing the blush rising on Ginny's face and the surprised expression Harry was wearing. Obviously it was Ginny's protectiveness that had startled him, for he was staring at her.

"Yeah, Mum, that was all," Ron said, he, too, looking suspiciously at Harry and Ginny. "Can we eat now?"

"Yes, that might be a good idea. Andromeda, do you think we should wake Teddy up?" Molly asked, doing her best to distract everyone away from Harry and Ginny.

"Well, he is probably hungry and he will be delighted to see Harry again," Andromeda replied with a nod. "Harry, would you be a dear and get him?"

Harry was happy to get an excuse to leave the room and gave the woman a grateful smile.

"Of course," he said, already halfway out. He had no idea what to make of Ginny's behaviour. Since she had come to him, she had varied from almost affectionate to sniping at him – but, Harry suddenly realised, she had mostly started arguments when it had been about him or his health.

And the effect her behaviour had had on him was troubling. It was almost as if no time had passed from the night she had left his life. The uncomfortable memory was there, but the distance that two years apart should have created was curiously absent. She was still more or less his Ginny, and less than a day with her had reminded him why he had fallen in love with her.

It had also made him realise he was _still_ in love with her. Everything he had done to forget her, to get over her – it was all useless. Damn. This would make it a lot harder to treat this case as just another job.

Harry had, as a reflex, stopped at the door to Ginny's room, realising only then that Andromeda hadn't said which room Teddy was sleeping in. Knowing Andromeda and her mischievous nature, he figured that it would be Ginny's room. It would be just her style to save him from the awkwardness in the living room by sending him to the one room in the house he wouldn't have entered unless he really had to.

With a sigh, he pushed open the door, and saw he was right – Teddy was napping on Ginny's bed. Sighing again, Harry walked to the bed and sat down. He softly nudged the turquoise-haired little boy and Teddy stirred.

"Uncle Harry?" he asked sleepily. Harry smiled and nodded. "Where are we?"

"We're at the Burrow," he said, his instincts telling him something was wrong. "What do you mean?"

"I wasn't here," Teddy said, sitting up, visibly afraid of something, "I wasn't here when I was awake!"

"Calm down, Teddy," Harry said gently, putting an arm around his godson's shoulders, "and tell me the whole story."

"I woke up earlier. There was a cup," Teddy said, trembling all over, "a shiny cup. I touched it, and it took me to some other place."

"It was a scary place," Teddy added in a whisper, tears filling his eyes. "It was all dark and cold and there was someone else there."

"What happened then?" Harry asked tensely, feeling like his insides had disappeared. If Teddy was telling the truth and hadn't had a nightmare, someone would have a hell to pay.

"There was a bright light and I went back to sleep," Teddy said quietly, sniffing. "Am I in trouble, Uncle Harry?"

"Of course not," Harry assured him in a whisper. "Are you hurt? Do you feel all right?"

"My head hurts," Teddy admitted, climbing into Harry's lap and hugging his godfather tightly. Andromeda had once told Harry that Teddy always felt safe when Harry was around. "And my arm hurts."

Teddy held up his right arm, and Harry was alarmed to see a clean cut above his elbow. It was just like the cut Wormtail had made on his arm the night after the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"You'll be all right now, mate, don't worry. We'll have to visit the hospital to take care of that cut, but you'll be fine," Harry said quietly. He got up from the bed, lifting Teddy who was motionless in his arms. The frightened little boy felt feather-light to him.

"What happened to me, Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked, still trembling slightly. "Why do you look so worried?"

"Someone took you away from here. Don't worry, Teddy, everything's all right now," Harry replied softly, not quite believing it himself. The whole way downstairs he whispered comforting things to Teddy, trying to calm the sobbing child. Everyone else was still in the living room and the conversation stopped as Harry entered.

"Andromeda, Teddy and I need to visit St Mungo's. Someone check if the wards are all right. I want to know how the hell this happened." Harry's voice was shaking, too, but it was because of suppressed rage rather than fear or tears.

"Is Teddy all right?" Andromeda asked, her face suddenly colourless as she realised her grandson was quiet and very still.

"Yes, but that's not because of any of us," Harry replied tensely. "We need to get going. Ron, I need to tell you what's going on, so don't go anywhere. Bill, since you know how the wards are supposed to work, that goes for you, too. Ginny, don't go to sleep alone even if you feel tired. Have someone watching over you."

Everyone stared at him, obviously frightened. Teddy stirred in his arms and whimpered, still terrified. Harry shot one last look at Andromeda and turned to leave the Burrow so he could Apparate to London.

x-x

Harry had refused to leave Teddy when the Healer had asked him if Teddy wanted to be examined in private. Harry wasn't even sure he could have left; Teddy had a very tight grip on his arm.

"There looks to be nothing wrong with him aside from this abrasion," the Healer announced. "He has been hit with a Stunner, which explains the headache. I'll put a healing potion on the wound and dress it, then you can leave."

Harry nodded jerkily, watching like a hawk to see if the Healer did anything suspicious at all. If Ron had been angry with him for not being paranoid enough yesterday, he certainly was paranoid enough now.

The simple procedure took less than five minutes, and Teddy climbed back into Harry's arms before they left. He had been clinging onto Harry like a lifeline, not daring to let him go for even one second, afraid something bad would happen if Harry left.

Harry didn't even want to think about what could have happened if the people who had taken Teddy hadn't felt generous enough to return the boy practically unharmed. They could have killed Teddy if they had wanted to. They could have done _anything_ to him.

"Why are you so angry? You said I'm not in trouble," Teddy said quietly on their way out. Harry sighed and gave the boy a tired smile.

"You're not in trouble. I'm angry with myself for not giving everyone better instructions and angry with the people who hurt you," he replied. "You're not in trouble. You shouldn't have touched that cup, but other than that, you did nothing wrong. Don't worry about that."

"I'm tired, Uncle Harry," Teddy whispered, burrowing deeper into Harry's robes.

"Try to stay awake for a while, all right? Mrs Weasley's made dinner, and she'd like it if you ate something," Harry told him softly. "And your grandmother will want to see you're all right."

When Harry and Teddy Apparated to the road that led to the Burrow, Bill, Ron and Andromeda were already waiting for them, all of them visibly extremely worried. Andromeda ran to Harry and Teddy the instant they appeared, relieved that they had returned so fast.

"What happened, Harry? What's wrong with Teddy?" Andromeda asked anxiously. "Why were you both so upset?"

"Someone took Teddy away from the house with a Portkey. He said he woke up from his nap and saw a cup that took him somewhere else when he touched it. Someone knocked him out with a Stunner and cut his arm, but other than that, they didn't hurt him and he was in Ginny's room when I went looking for him," Harry explained, trying to keep his voice calm and his tones soothing.

"Teddy was kidnapped? How did that happen? The wards were supposed to make sure we're safe here!" Andromeda was practically screaming and she was somewhat hysterical.

"We're going to figure that out. Don't leave Teddy alone. He's tired, so take him inside and ask Molly to give him some dinner." Harry knew something to do would distract Andromeda from the panic she was slipping into. "Teddy will be fine. Just... don't let him out of your sight before we get in."

Other than a quiet sniff, Teddy didn't object to being moved from Harry's arms to his grandmother, who quickly carried him in. Once his godson was out of his sight, Harry didn't have to cover up the anger anymore.

"When did you put up the wards? Is there any way they would have had time to do this before it?" he asked, turning to Ron and Bill, who flinched as they saw the look on his face.

"We finished them right before you arrived," Ron said. "We took a walk around the grounds first, and spent a good while designing them before we started putting up the spells. They would've had plenty of time."

"And Teddy was alone all that time?" Harry asked, incredibly frustrated. "I told Ginny to stay with someone at all times, to not go anywhere alone, didn't _anyone_ think it applied to Teddy, too? He was in more danger since they tried to kill him outright, Ginny hasn't been threatened like that yet!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, we messed up. It won't happen again," Ron said seriously.

"You messed up? Damn right you did! You left a five-year-old alone in a different floor! Ginny, at least, has a wand and can defend herself, Teddy's helpless against these people! They took him right under our noses, and we didn't even notice before he was back again. They could've killed him, they could have kept him there, they could have tortured him – they could have done anything they wanted and we couldn't have done anything to help Teddy!"

Harry wasn't shouting just because he was angry with Ron, but also because what could have happened was just sinking in. He knew it, too, and as soon as he had finished, he apologised to Ron.

"I'm sorry," he said, clearing his throat as he realised his voice was trembling again. "It wasn't your fault. We both should've told everyone to be more careful. You didn't know this was going to happen."

"It was our fault this happened, Harry," Ron replied grimly. "We weren't careful enough. We can only be grateful that they didn't hurt Teddy worse."

Harry nodded in agreement, trying to pull himself together again.

"Right. Bill, did you check the wards?" he asked, now all business and calm. Bill nodded, something akin to compassion in his eyes.

"I did. There's nothing wrong with them. I think they took Teddy before we did the updating," he said. "I'm glad he's all right."

Harry nodded with a sigh. "We need to get in and give everyone a little more specific instructions on being careful so nothing like this happens again."

x-x

The next day, Harry and Ron spent most of the morning in their office, planning different courses of action. Everyone they could think of had been warned and given instructions on how to act if they noticed something was amiss. They had also warded again several residences, so they were fairly confident nothing was going to happen to the people they cared about.

Harry and Ron had also warned Professor McGonagall, who had been appalled to hear that someone might try to harm some of her staff or students or cause some sort of commotion at the school. Since it was the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, the two young Aurors had deducted that something could be going on at the school's premises. Most of the wizarding world had lost someone at that particular battle, so attacking the place now would cause a major fuss and the pressure on Harry and Ron to catch whoever was behind all the restlessness would increase a great deal.

Despite all the precautions they had taken, Harry still felt very uneasy. He was sure they had overlooked something, forgotten to do something important. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of what it was and it bothered him greatly.

Also, as Harry had said the previous night, it was time to start acting instead of reacting to whatever was thrown their way, but it was easier said than done. As it was, they knew nothing for certain, so they needed to be very careful with their movements; wrong guesses would certainly not work for the Aurors' advantage.

At the moment, Harry was sitting back on his chair and Ron was pacing around the space between the desks in their office.

"We're not getting anywhere!" exclaimed Ron after hours of speculation. "We're going in circles and everything we have is based on wild guesses at best."

"We need to stop assuming things and find out some facts," Harry said with a nod, "but the problem is, we don't have a lot of places to start looking. We've only got the notes."

"We already know where they got their information," Ron commented, then eyed Harry hesitantly. "You did make sure that your theory of them breaking into your flat and going through your Pensieve was correct, didn't you?"

"I did – that's where they got all the details they've been using," Harry replied. "So we know for sure that they know how to use a Pensieve and that they're good with wards."

"Some of them might be professionals," Ron added, "since you had professionals – well, Bill – enforcing the wards around your flat."

"True. It also looks like they've got something against me," Harry continued the list, frowning slightly. "For some reason, I don't think these people are Death Eaters, though. I mean, when someone's coming after me, I'd say that's the most logical explanation, but I get the feeling this is something else."

"You haven't been talking about your hunches yet," Ron said, interested, stopping in his tracks. Harry was quite glad of this, since Ron's inability to stay still had been distracting him.

"Death Eaters have a different style. Messy deaths that they don't even try to make look like accidents, messages praising Voldemort and his ideals, as well as the Dark Mark everywhere is more like them," Harry explained with a shrug. "Teddy was kidnapped yesterday and they didn't even try to kill him, even though they'd cursed his toy earlier? Death Eaters would never act like that."

"You know, the toy could've been meant for you," Ron pointed out, leaning on his desk. "No Auror would let a five-year-old go through a possibly dangerous crime scene, and since you were the one who was there and knew what that toy meant for your godson..."

"But what about the trigger?" asked Harry. "If they knew I was going to pick it up, why not make it go off instantly?"

"I don't know. Another test?" replied Ron with a small frown. "Maybe it was a clue to what's going to happen today or of what they were going to do with Teddy. These people seem to like clues."

"I know it's a bad joke, but obviously they're not doing a good job with that since we're completely clueless," retorted Harry. He nearly fell off his chair when the alarm in the illegal magic usage map went of suddenly, and a red spot began flashing in Surrey. Harry cursed heavily under his breath, jumping out of his chair and running to the door.

"We forgot the Dursleys!"

x-x

The Privet Drive was in chaos. The Dursleys' house was on fire and their neighbours were all in a panic. Harry had a bad feeling that it was something else than the flaming house that had disturbed them so.

"Harry, don't go into the house!" Ron bellowed from behind Harry. Harry hadn't really even noticed he had run closer, and was now on the other side of the street from his childhood home. There was a shrill scream for help from the inside, and Ron called to Harry again.

"HARRY! DON'T GO TO THE BLOODY HOUSE!"

Harry made up his mind when the screaming continued, applying several different charms on his clothes as he ran over the street – Cooling Charms, mostly, which he knew wouldn't last for very long. Once he was inside, he applied a Bubblehead charm on himself – he knew the smoke was dangerous.

Crouched low, he squinted his eyes, trying to see in front of him. Everything was aflame; the air was thick with smoke and the heat was suffocating. There was another scream, from the direction of the living room.

Harry started making his way over there, to find the door blocked by a flaming chunk of the ceiling.

"_Aquamenti_!" Ron had followed Harry into the house, and started dousing the blockage before Harry. "If you get yourself killed, I'll find a way to bring you back to life just to kill you again!"

"That's a deal!" Harry retorted, mimicking Ron's actions; the flames on the doorway were beginning to go out. Ron continued by showering the doorframes while Harry ducked to the living room, glad they hadn't even tried to Vanish the blockage; it looked like the whole ceiling would have come down on them.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry called, trying to see someone in the room. He saw the sprawled form of his Aunt behind the sofa and quickly dragged her away from the burning furniture. She was barely conscious.

"Is anyone else home?" asked Harry, hoping she would hear him. Feebly, she shook her head, not protesting when Harry lifted her on his arms and dashed out of the room. Ron was waiting outside, and helped Harry carry the woman out.

Slightly before the front door, Ron began cursing heavily; his cloak had caught fire. Harry knew their charms had expired. He tried to help his friend by shooting a jet of cool water from his wand at the burning cloak on their way out. Before they exited, Harry took off their Bubblehead charms, as well.

Once they were outside, Harry saw it was a good thing he had put out the cloak – Ron's back was already covered in burns and painful-looking blisters. They hurried out of the garden, further away from the house, and lowered Harry's Aunt on the sidewalk.

Harry checked her pulse and made sure she was breathing, then turned to his best friend.

"We need to get you to St Mungo's," he said. Ron was obviously in great pain, but shook his head anyway.

"I'll manage for a while. How is she?" Ron gestured to Harry's Aunt. "And what the bloody hell happened here?"

Harry had been too preoccupied to notice it before, but half of the house was missing. It looked like something had exploded in his old room. He didn't have time to comment on it before there was an outraged cry behind them in the street. Harry turned to look and saw Vernon and Dudley Dursley standing in the middle of Privet Drive, staring at the house in horror.

"Petunia!" Harry was glad to hear his Uncle was more concerned about his wife than the damaged property.

"She's over here," Harry called to them, trying not to think about the rant he would most certainly receive when his Uncle noticed him, "and aside from a little too much smoke inhalation, she's fine."

The two men rushed to Harry, Ron and Petunia, only quickly glancing at the Aurors before turning their attention to the woman. She was now trying to sit up – Dudley hastily helped her. Harry marvelled at how Dudley had changed; then again, Harry, too, had grown up in the six years they hadn't seen each other.

"You got her out of the house?" asked Vernon, diverting Harry's attention from Dudley. Harry and Ron nodded in response. "Thank you for saving my wife. Dear God, man, you need to get yourself to a doctor!"

Vernon had noticed the burns on Ron's back, too. Before Ron could voice his opinion about doctors, Harry piped up.

"Yes, he does, I'll take him in a minute. I think Petunia needs to see someone, as well – would you come with us?" he asked politely. "I'm afraid we need to talk."

Vernon and Dudley both stared at Harry, taken aback, until something akin to comprehension dawned on Dudley's face.

"Harry?" he asked hesitantly. "It _is_ Harry! We didn't even recognise you!"

Harry himself had noticed he looked rather different these days, but he had never thought the difference was that big. When he had been living with the Dursleys, he had usually been fairly scrawny; it had been enhanced by the oversized clothes he had worn. Now, thanks to all the training he put in to stay in shape, he was still lean but rather muscular, and the fitting clothes – at the moment a T-shirt and jeans (he had left his robes at the Ministry, knowing they were going into a Muggle neighbourhood) – highlighted it. His hair was the same, as were his glasses, but he figured that with all the dirt from the house on his face, his scar wasn't visible.

"Yes, it's me," Harry replied, "and this is Ron Weasley, I don't know if you remember him. I'm really sorry, but you're in danger because of me, and while we get someone to fix your house and make it safer, I'll explain what's going on if you come with us."

"Where are you going?" asked Vernon hesitantly, obviously trying to decide what to do.

"A hospital," Harry supplied. "Aunt Petunia needs to be looked after, too."

"We'll come with you," Dudley said, probably remembering how many times Vernon had changed his mind the last time they were supposed to go with wizards. Harry nodded.

"Do you think you could Apparate with your Aunt and Uncle?" asked Ron. Harry's eyes snapped to him – Ron was paling rapidly and there were beds of sweat on his temples. He was swaying slightly on his feet. Harry was beginning to believe Ron was injured worse than he had first thought.

"I'll make us a Portkey," Harry said shortly, "since you're in no shape fit to Apparate. You should've said you're hurt that bad! Hermione's going to murder me."

"You can't make an illegal Portkey in a street full of Muggles," Ron argued, shaking his head slightly, "Hermione will murder you for violating the Statute of Secrecy."

"Hermione won't mind," retorted Harry, already going through his pockets to find something he could enchant. His fingers closed in on a Chocolate Frog card. Ron watched him worriedly when he dug it out and tapped his wand on it.

"You don't have to worry about me getting in trouble, I'm Harry Potter, remember?" Harry lightened the mood with a joke, winking at his friend. Ron was so shocked to hear him joking again that the illegal Portkey slipped out of his mind instantly; the injury may also have affected his attention span, but Harry didn't want to think too much about that.

"Uncle Vernon, Dudley, put a finger on this, please," Harry instructed, holding the card up with one hand while taking a firm grip on his Aunt's should with the other. "You too, Ron."

Ron tiredly pressed his finger to the Portkey, while Dudley and Vernon were more hesitant.

"Everyone holding on?" Harry asked, and as everyone nodded, he looked around to make sure no one was looking at them, then tapped his wand on the card again.

There was a tug behind his navel, and seconds later they were in the lobby of St Mungo's. Ron was on his knees, Harry was kneeling next to his Aunt, and Vernon and Dudley were lying in a heap on the floor.

"Sorry about that, the first couple of landings are always a little rough," said Harry ruefully, offering a hand to his cousin and Uncle to help them up. Dudley took the offered hand first and then helped his father up while Harry called for a Healer.

Two Healers rushed to their group. Harry realised he knew the other one; the man had been treating him yesterday.

"Back again, Mr Potter? What's wrong with you this time?" the Healer asked, his eyebrows almost disappearing to his hairline as he took in Harry's appearance. "Didn't I tell you to take it easier if you want to live to see your thirtieth birthday?"

"I'm fine," Harry said irritably. "It's Ron and my Aunt that need medical help."

"Right, sir. Mr Weasley, if you would come with me. Do you want us to contact someone for you?" the other Healer, a rather young woman, asked, starting to steer Ron away from Harry and the Dursleys.

"I can Floo his wife and ask her to come here," Harry offered. "Healer Jones, if you would look after my relatives? There was a fire in their house. They're Muggles, but for safety reasons, they need to be treated here. Vernon can tell you anything you need to know about her, they've been married for over twenty years."

"Muggles? I'm sorry, but to treat Muggles in St Mungo's, I need a little more justification than 'safety reasons'," the first Healer said. Harry tried not to sigh aloud.

"I'm sorry, sir, it's official Auror business. I can go get clearance from Minister Shacklebolt instantly if you want," he replied, honestly apologetic that he couldn't tell more. He thought it might not be a good idea to tell everyone what was going on; it was sure to cause a panic, and that was the last thing they needed now. Once the threats involved the public, they would inform the people, but not yet.

"The Minister for Magic? Er, no, let's not bother him, sir, I'll take your word for now," the Healer told him, obviously slightly taken aback. "I will let you know when she's all right."

"Thank you," Harry said with a small smile, then turned to his cousin and uncle. "Go with him, we'll come to you once we get Ron sorted out."

His relatives left, glancing back at him every few steps. Harry headed towards the fireplace, not looking forward to this Floo call at all.

x-x

Harry's ears were still ringing after the lecture he had got from Hermione when he was escorting the Dursleys to the Ministry. Harry felt that his office was secure enough for Petunia to officially give a statement of what had happened and Harry to explain what was going on. He wasn't on a very good mood; there were several reasons for it. First of all, he had wanted to stay in the hospital and make sure Ron was going to be all right, but Hermione had told him to take care of his job first. That, if anything, was ironic.

Second, his abdomen was aching again. He knew it wasn't a good thing, since he had a potion that was supposed to take care of that. He was fairly confident it was going to pass, though.

The thing that was most bothering him, however, was that this had happened. He was obviously slipping: first the wards, then the teddy bear, then Teddy's short kidnapping, and now this. Any competent Auror should have foreseen these things.

His bad mood was why he cursed aloud when he opened the door to his office and found himself face-to-face with Percy Weasley. Percy looked more sympathetic than affronted, since his appearance for a professional call was, at the best of times, a nuisance.

"Please tell me you're not here on business," Harry groaned as he stepped in, walking to his desk to get out his quill and parchment to write down the statement. The Dursleys hesitantly followed him in. Percy looked slightly surprised to see them.

"Go ahead, make yourselves comfortable," Harry told them, gesturing towards the couch, when he noticed his relatives looked decidedly uneasy, then turned back to Percy.

"I'm sorry," the redhead started, and Harry decided this definitely wasn't one of his best days. Percy was in charge of a lot of things, including monitoring the numerous Ministry funded facilities. As it happened, Azkaban was one of said facilities, and most of the times Percy visited, the business was related to the prison and it seldom was good news.

"What happened this time?" Harry asked, feeling an increasing sense of dread as he realised Percy was remarkably pale.

"Dementors," Percy replied. That one word was enough to freeze Harry completely. After the foul things had joined Voldemort, Kingsley had had a good excuse to declare them dangerous dark creatures that shouldn't be trusted to guard the most dangerous of wizards. Someone had recruited the Dementors to attack Azkaban.

"Was there a note?" Harry knew, without quite knowing how he had put it together, that all the recent goings-on were related. "And who did they release?"

"Most of the important Voldemort-supporters that we had locked up," replied Percy with a deep sigh, answering the other question by tossing a crumpled piece of parchment on Harry's desk. "You're not going to like it."

"Do you have a list of the people?" Harry asked as he took the note and straightened it out. Percy nodded curtly.

"Dolohov, Yaxley, Rookwood, the Lestrange brothers and Thicknesse were the most important," he said. At this point, Harry was furious.

"We should've just executed those bastards five years ago," he growled. "The attack on Privet Drive was just a bloody diversion."

Percy's response was lost to Harry after Harry'd taken a look at the note.

_Harry Potter,_

_Once before, there was a time when you permitted your friends to die for you. Now the time to give yourself up has long gone and we are entering the fray fully. We shall find you, and we shall punish every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from us._

_So far, you have done an admirable job, Mr Potter, but even you have your limits. Eventually, there will be one that you cannot save._

"Harry?" Percy sounded very hesitant, almost frightened, as Harry stared at the note, wishing he could kill the person who had written it just by glaring at the piece of parchment in his hand.

"Don't even think about blaming yourself. They're trying to hit you where you're the weakest, and you can't let them destroy you with that. It'd be too easy," said Percy sternly. Harry glanced at him, surprised to hear that from Percy, of all people.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Harry dismissed his concern, even as his voice shook with barely suppressed fury. "These bastards will not think what I'll put them through is _easy._"

"Where's Ron?" asked Percy, looking around the office, faking bewilderment. Harry knew he was making a big deal of it because he wanted to change the subject.

"He's currently a patient in St Mungo's," Harry informed the redhead, whose act suddenly turned into real concern. "Someone blew up part of the Dursleys' house and what didn't explode was on fire. Ron and I went in to save Petunia, and he got a few burns. He should come here any minute now."

"This isn't just to rile me up," he continued, tossing the note to his desk, where the parchment stood out vividly against the dark wood. "This means that so far, they've just been playing with us and now they're getting serious. Or at least it certainly looks like it."

It was immensely frustrating to always be a step behind these people – they had clearly planned it all out carefully and the Aurors were nowhere near discovering what the ultimate goal was. They had made it look like they were targeting Ginny, so that Harry and Ron would take the case. They had hurt Harry so the Aurors would take the threat more seriously. They had left detailed notes that were meant to distract them, and then inserted the obscure clues so that they would concentrate on preventing what they thought was going to happen.

It had worked; the old Death Eaters' escape from Azkaban had come from nowhere to them, and because of the cleverly timed attack on the Dursleys, when the chaos in Azkaban had begun, the two best Aurors in the force weren't on call.

As frustrated and angry with himself as Harry was, he had to admit that his opponents' tactic was very impressive. It was starting to resemble a chess game where they couldn't see the pieces, but considering how badly Harry always got trounced when he played chess, the notion wasn't very comforting.

"Do you have any suspects yet?" asked Percy, looking worried. Harry knew the older man was aware of how serious the case was.

"No," Harry admitted grudgingly, "we've been playing catch-up so far. It looks like we were wrong on most things we suspected. This brings a whole new aspect to the entire thing... If they have any more surprises like this up their sleeves, it'll throw us off again. I can tell you Ron's really not going to like this."

Harry glanced at the note again, then, almost involuntarily, took a quick look at his relatives. The Dursleys were sitting on the couch, looking like they couldn't quite decide between running away and lightening up a little.

Harry sighed. It was going to be a very long day.


	5. Chapter 5: The Date

**Chapter 5 – The Date**

All hell broke loose after the breakout from Azkaban. As Harry had predicted, Ron had not taken the news very well. Neither he nor Harry liked knowing that they had played their parts in the plan so neatly, not stopping at any time to think that there might have been a bigger scheme behind it all.

Curiously, this incident had been the one thing that told them they weren't doing their jobs as well as they should have been. Shortly before, Teddy had been kidnapped on their watch, the Dursleys had been attacked and Harry had found out that _he_ had, in fact, no matter how involuntarily or blissfully ignorant of it at the time, been the source of all the information their opponents had on them. It couldn't get much more personal than that, and it was something rather unrelated to their personal lives that gave them the push to start working again.

Perhaps it was because when they worked, they thought like Aurors rather than protective brothers, ex-boyfriends or godfathers, and an Azkaban breakout needed the attention of experienced Aurors rather than emotionally involved young adults. Harry and Ron both had good hearts but rather hot heads, but both also had extraordinary instincts, especially Harry. It was the instincts and cold logic they relied on (even though the two didn't always go hand in hand) while they were working, and in their personal lives they tended to let their passionate natures get the better of them.

Needless to say, during the first days of the new case, they had been too close to it all. They had reacted to everything based on emotions, which, while sometimes necessary to remain human, wasn't a recommended style for Aurors to work with.

Of course, the press had no idea Harry and Ron might have been able to figure out something like this was going to happen if they had been doing their jobs properly, and the two were grateful for the small favours. As it was, every reporter was calling for the two heroes to step up and lock the monsters back where they belonged – or better yet, do what the public had wanted them to do years ago and just execute the escaped fugitives before they could kill any more innocents.

The critique the Azkaban guards and alarms had got was crushing, and every last report of the arrangements and their ineptness was correct. Percy had complained about it for as long as he had known how the system worked, calling it inefficient and outdated, and had long been backed up by Harry and Ron, but there had been no new one put to place. Now the reporters had dug up that notable fact somewhere, and Percy (along with a fair number of references to Harry and Ron) was praised and the people in charge of the system were heavily reprimanded for not listening to him.

Even though Harry had told Hermione he would consider the case just a job from the beginning, it was only after the prison breakout that he started acting like it. It was much easier to think like an Auror if he kept in mind it was just a job, not his life. So far, he had been successful with it. _His_ last living relatives weren't living at _his_ house with _his_ house-elf right now, no; those were just people he needed to protect at some safe-house. It wasn't really his fault their home had burned down, and he could actually tell them that when he didn't think of them as his family and himself as their only link to the whole mess. Besides, the Ministry was restoring the place, and they should just treat this as a vacation – that was much easier to tell them when he didn't have to imagine how his Uncle would have taken it in the past.

It wasn't _his _godson that was under a constant threat, so he could easily tell the little boy what was and wasn't allowed without having to think about whether it really was fair that he should be restricted so. He didn't need to wonder that if he had visited more often and taken better care of him, the little boy might not be in danger at all.

He pretended the memories in the Pensieve weren't his own, and so he could objectively pick up what he could use that would hurt the person they belonged to most and would therefore be what the people who had gone through his memories would use. The flat he scoured through didn't belong to his ex-girlfriend, it was just some random young woman who happened to have had intruders in her home. The attitude made it easier to inspect everything to see if something had been tampered with, or if the intruders had inadvertently left something behind.

He, Harry, hadn't been attacked at the site he went through, looking for clues more carefully than possibly ever before and taking readings on the residue of magic lingering on the place. The third crime scene was not, really, the home of Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin, and he didn't have to think about how much it would hurt both of them to see Nymphadora's – or, as Harry always thought of her, Tonks's – room completely destroyed. Andromeda had barely touched a thing in there, wanting to keep the room as a reminder of her daughter and her spunky nature.

It would have destroyed the woman to see the state the room was in now, and it broke Harry's heart to think about it later. He had paid it no attention when he was there, because he hadn't known the owners of the house at the time. It was, after all, just another job. During the night, however, when he allowed himself to think about who the people were and the unfairness of it all caught up with him, he was a wreck. Nightmares and guilt, something he quite rarely experienced in normal cases, were now plaguing the only time he allowed himself to actually recognise that it really was everyone important to him that this ordeal was hurting.

Nevertheless, it had been working just fine so far, and Harry and Ron now knew what they were doing. Still, there was a limit to Harry's self-control, and Ginny Weasley had just quite violently crossed that particular line.

"I'm sorry, I think I heard you wrong. Could you repeat that?" Harry knew he had heard her correctly, he just didn't want to believe she had actually asked that of him. Ginny, aware of how Harry felt, seemed rather uncomfortable. It wasn't a big surprise, though, since if Harry had had to ask _her_ something like that, he would have been mortified. And it seemed Ginny wasn't even fully aware of what she was asking of him.

"I said, I need to have lunch with a bloke tomorrow and I want your permission to do that. Since you're my bodyguard and all at the moment." It was obviously important for Ginny to add that she was only asking for his opinion because he was protecting her. He sighed deeply.

"You went to Ron earlier, didn't you?" he asked, resigned to how it was going to play out. He knew what he would have to tell her, and he didn't really like it.

"Yes, and he said you're in charge so he can't tell me what I'm allowed to do," Ginny replied through gritted teeth. Quite apparently she was enjoying the conversation as much as he was. Ron would most certainly hear about this later.

"All right. I'm only going to have this conversation with you once, so listen carefully," Harry said slowly, sure that in a few hours, he'd be laughing at how stupid the whole thing was, but right now, laughing was the furthest from his mind. "_No_."

"What?" Ginny asked, obviously surprised. "Why not?"

"As surprising as it might seem, I'm not trying to sabotage your personal life even though I'm your ex-boyfriend. If you went out with someone, I'd have to come with you, and neither of us would like that very much," Harry explained irately. "Besides, I don't really have time for casual outings. I don't know if you've heard, but there was a prison breakout a few days ago and we're trying to track down a few murderous lunatics, so my schedule is pretty full."

"You'd come along?" Ginny seemed awfully tied up on that one detail.

"Yes. But you're _not _going," Harry retorted.

"Why can't you assign someone else? After Robards, you're in charge of the Aurors," Ginny wheedled. Harry sighed again.

"I can't, for two reasons. First of all, we don't have enough people to deal with things as it is, and second, if something happened, I'd be held responsible," he told her. "I'm sorry, but you're not going."

"You'd be held responsible?" Ginny repeated, disbelieving. Harry nodded. "Even here? During the day, when I'm in the Burrow and you're taking care of the important stuff at the office while the so far invisible Aurors are making sure this place is safe? If they botch up and something happens to me, they'll blame you?"

"Yes, because I'm supposed to be your bodyguard. Can you stop repeating what I say and asking stupid questions?" he asked. Ginny stared at him, then started laughing.

"Yeah. That really sucks, you know? Either you have to come along or then I'm not going at all," she said, shaking her head. She seemed to find it highly amusing.

"It shouldn't be a difficult decision, obviously," Harry retorted dryly. Ginny smiled brightly at him.

"You're right. It's not. Is there any way you might have an hour off tomorrow at some point?" Harry didn't need her to spell it out for him; Ginny wanted him to come along when she _went out with someone else_.

Ron was definitely going to hear about this.

x-x

"WEASLEY!" Ron halted in his tracks, knowing it never was a good thing when Harry called him by his last name. Come to think of it, it never was a good thing when Harry was yelling at him, either.

He turned on his heels to face Harry, who was jogging down the near-empty corridor they were in. Ron had been about to go home to sleep since it was already eleven o'clock, but Harry looked like he wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere. He had left his cloak and robes in their office, and was dressed in the jeans and T-shirt he always wore beneath his robes to work. Ron had never really understood why, but Harry claimed robes got in the way in duelling.

Ron tried not to pay attention to how Harry was pressing a hand to his stomach, right to the spot where the injury was.

"Where've you been for the last few hours?" Harry asked, obviously peeved. "I've been looking for you since I got back from the Burrow! You weren't at the meeting we had with the others, either, so you'd better have a damn good excuse."

Since the case they had been working on had turned out to be huge, it would have been ridiculously stupid to only assign it for two Aurors. Harry and Ron were now in charge of three teams that were all a part of this investigation. One team was looking into the prison breakout, making sure Azkaban was secure and no one else would escape, another was actively searching for the convicts, and thanks to Harry's persistence, the third team was guarding the Burrow and its numerous inhabitants. Harry and Ron themselves were focusing on the letters and trying to figure out the bigger scheme.

It was a difficult puzzle and required a lot of co-operation, so the teams, Harry and Ron met at least twice a day to go through what they had all figured out. The Burrow-patrol, as the others had taken into calling it, actually consisted of Aurors who weren't doing anything more important. That ground was getting pretty thin, but still there were just enough people to maintain a rotation of two people per shift, three shifts a day. Some even volunteered to do it on their free time, which Ron found rather impressing.

"I was checking the monitors in the archives." Ron didn't offer any more explanation and didn't tell Harry which monitors he meant. Harry seemed sceptic enough as it was.

"And you think I'll believe it took hours?" he asked. "I know they're not that complicated. Besides, I checked the archives. Twice."

"Erm. Right. I was in our office every now and then."

"For such a big man, you act surprisingly much like a five-year-old," Harry retorted, now more frustrated than angry. "We're supposed to work together and you're avoiding me?"

"Has something happened?" Ron asked sharply – Harry seemed too serious for his liking.

"No. Actually, yes, something has happened. I'm reassigning you." It was good Harry's tones were so casual; Ron thought he was joking and didn't use his wand first and ask for an explanation later. He just laughed.

"I'm serious. You're still on this case, but you'll be responsible for Ginny," Harry informed him shortly, turning around and walking to the direction he had come from. "Just thought you should know. She's camping at the Burrow at the moment. Have fun."

Harry was already halfway to their office when Ron caught up with him.

"What? Why? You know the others will never go along with that!" Ron argued, effectively stopping Harry by grabbing a firm hold on his shoulder.

"You know full well why, and if by 'the others' you mean your brothers, I really don't care. You're one of the best Aurors in the force, you can handle it better than well," Harry replied, obviously not taken aback at all by Ron's arguing.

"No, I don't know why! You've been insisting for the past week that you'll be fine, and now suddenly you're pushing her to me?" Ron asked. He just couldn't understand. This wasn't at all like Harry – the fact that he was giving up something work-related was, in itself, a great shock.

"Do you know what she asked of me?" Harry asked, now obviously very irritated again. "She said she went to you with it first."

"She asked me if she could give an interview to a bloke from the Witch Weekly and have lunch or something like that with him to do it," Ron replied, puzzled. "I told her she needs to ask you, since after all, you're in charge, and you have a lot more experience with the press than I do."

This seemed to surprise Harry, for some reason. He stared at Ron for a long time in thought, then shook his head and laughed.

"_That_ is not what she asked me," he said, chuckling. "I'm not going to argue with you about this anymore, though. I'm not 'pushing her' to you, either – if I recall correctly, you're the one who actually did that to me in the first place. I'm still on the case, I'm still helping her, but it'd be easier for me this way."

"Easier?" Ron was baffled. For the past five days, Harry had been brilliant. Nothing had fazed him, nothing had been too much for him; he had taken in all the destruction at Tonks's house without so much as blinking an eye, and going through some of his worst memories had had no effect on him whatsoever. It had all looked ridiculously easy for him, and now he talked like this.

"Yes, _easier._ Easy is a concept we haven't seen a lot of with this case, I know, but I thought you'd still remember what the word means," Harry retorted sharply. Ron was getting the feeling that first impressions had been deceiving everyone during the last week, and Harry had very skilfully tricked them all. Of course, with all the experience he had, he was good in it.

"How would that help you?" inquired Ron, trying to sound less curious than he was.

"Well, I wouldn't have her messing with my head all the time, and I might be able to close this case with a little bit of my sanity left, for one thing," Harry said, starting to walk towards the office again. "For another, I'm busy enough without daily visits from _all_ of your brothers."

"And I'm not?" Ron asked, slightly offended. "I'm doing as much as humanly possible!"

"You know your load is lighter than mine, and you know I'm not bragging now. You can tell them all to sod off if you feel like it; I'd rather not, since I'm not related to them and therefore they don't have to like me," Harry replied. "Please, just do it."

Ron knew Harry didn't really need to have his permission to assign him to protect Ginny, and it meant a lot to him that his friend actually bothered with that. That was why Ron felt worse for doing what he was about to do.

"I know you're my boss, and eventually I'll do what you tell me to do, but if you're asking for my opinion at all, I'm saying no," he said. "I'd really rather not do it, because it's going to break my sister's heart that you don't care about her that much."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Harry muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "You're impossible. I never said anything remotely like that – I just said I _can't_ do it."

"You haven't given me a reason yet. I can tell Bill and the rest of them to leave you alone," Ron said. "What did she ask you?"

Harry shook his head again, clearly amused with Ron's attitude.

"You know what, never mind. Go home and get some sleep. And stop avoiding me."

"So I'm not reassigned?" Ron asked, grinning. Harry shook his head.

"You're not reassigned. _Go home_," he repeated.

"Now I'm really curious. What did she ask you?" Ron couldn't help it; opportunities to tease Harry a little were few and far between.

"It was an order, Weasley. Good night."

x-x

"_Your sister and I went out." Harry's words didn't get Ron to look up – the redhead just grunted and turned the page of the book he was reading._

"_I know. I think the whole world knows. If the next thing you're going to say is 'but we broke up and then we got together again and now we're snogging all over the place', I'll really have to hurt you."_

_Harry was standing on the door of Ron's room in the flat they shared, and Ron was lying on his bed, reading _Flying with the Cannons _for what must have been the millionth time._

"_No, you prat, tonight. We went out on a date. And since I think we might end up on the front page of one of the magazines your mother subscribes to, I just thought I should warn you beforehand so you could... you know. Prepare yourself."_

_This time, Ron groaned and slammed the book shut, finally looking at Harry._

"_If there's a picture of you two kissing again, I swear I'm going to throw up."_

"_It's nice to know I can always count on your support and maturity," Harry shot back wryly. Despite the obvious sarcasm in his tones, Harry couldn't stop grinning, and it wasn't anything new for Ron._

"_You're happy, aren't you?" he asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the insightful comment, but Harry didn't seem to wonder about the sudden turn for more meaningful subjects that the conversation had taken._

"_Yep," he simply answered, leaning on the doorframe, and Ron grinned, too._

"_You know, it's kind of weird to see you like that – all happy and getting excited about things – but I think I could definitely get used to it." Harry chuckled at Ron's words._

"_I could get used to feeling like this, too. There's just something about your sister..."_

"_Please don't tell me if it involves any of her physical features. Like I just said, I think I'm going to be sick."_

"_Git," said Harry with a laugh. "I wasn't going to. She just really makes me feel good, you know? At the risk of sounding incredibly sappy, I feel a little like there's something missing when she's not around."_

"_You poor sod, you've really fallen for her! The next thing you'll know, you're shouting from the rooftops that you're madly in love with her," Ron replied, unable to keep the sincerely happy smile from his face._

"_Actually, I did that already."_

"_Well, then all that's left is to buy the ring. If Ginny's managed to get _you_ shout it from the rooftops, there's not much else you can do." Ron hesitated for a second, hating even the idea of bringing Harry down, but then said it anyway. "Ginny is shouting along with you, right?"_

"_Yeah, she actually started it. Why?" asked Harry, frowning very slightly. Ron smiled in response._

"_I was just asking. She seems happier than I've seen her in ages, and you know she's always loved you. She wouldn't have waited for you for so long if she hadn't. I just... I really don't want to see you get hurt, by Ginny or anyone else for that matter." He laughed at himself for thinking about something so stupid. "I don't think I need to worry, though. When you get married, I'll be your best man. And the godfather of your firstborn, obviously."_

"_I think it's a little too early to be thinking about things like that. I haven't even bought her a ring yet," said Harry, grinning widely again. It was infectious – Ron felt his own smile widening. He was sure his face was going to split in half any minute now._

"_C'mon, Harry. Everyone knows you'll be together for the rest of your bloody lives, so it hardly matters if we do a bit of planning now."_

x-x

Despite the fact that five minutes earlier Ron had been dead on his feet and looking forward to a good night's sleep, he stopped by at the Burrow before going home. Harry had mentioned Ginny was there, and after the conversation he had just had with his best friend, Ron really needed a chat with his sister.

"Ronald! What are you doing here at this hour? Has something happened?" His mother half-rose from her seat as Ron entered the kitchen, visibly worried. He smiled slightly.

"No, Mum, there's nothing new. I just wanted to have a word with Ginny," he explained vaguely. "She asked something from us and we need to talk about the details."

"And this discussion has to be in private?" His mother seemed mildly annoyed, and Ron tried to offer her a rueful smile. It might have come out too much like a grin, though, for she just huffed and left the room.

"When's Harry coming? It's almost midnight and he's still working?" Ginny's questions ended in a jaw-cracking yawn; it was clear she was exhausted.

"He was still at the office, and as far as I know, he could be there for hours. Listen, you told me that the Harpies' management wanted you to give an interview to that Witch Weekly-bloke. That wasn't what you asked of Harry, and because of whatever it was that you told him, he was going to reassign me to take care of you," Ron explained quickly, taking a look around to make sure their parents weren't listening in. "What the hell did you tell him? I haven't seen him give up an assignment since – I've _never_ seen him give up anything!"

"But I did tell him –" Ginny froze mid-sentence when she realised her mistake. "Bloody Hell. I told him – I'm such an idiot, Ron."

"_What did you say?" _Ron pressed.

"I said I need to have lunch with a bloke, and I didn't even realise that it sounded like I was going out with someone else. And when he said that I need to have a bodyguard with me, and that _he_ will be my bodyguard until this is over, I just invited him along." Ginny obviously hadn't meant to say so; it was clear to Ron that she was just as upset by her slip-up as he and Harry were.

"Brilliant, Ginny. Absolutely brilliant. You know he hasn't reacted to anything in the last couple of days? All the things we've had to do that have had me almost throwing up haven't affected him at all. And he cares about the people involved at least as much as I do," Ron commented lightly. "And then you go and invite him along on a date you'll be having with another man. I'm glad it was an accident, because if you had purposefully messed him up _again_ when he hasn't even recovered from the last blow, I really would've had to hurt you."

"I didn't mean to hurt him like that the first time around, as you know full well!" Ginny shot back. Clearly Ron had touched a nerve.

"Oh yeah, you keep telling me that. You just suddenly walked out on him with no explanation, that's what people in love do every other day, yeah. You know, he still has no idea why you left him. Neither does anyone else, for that matter," Ron retorted. "When he comes to pick you up, _apologise._ He's trying to help you, and you're making it rather hard for him to concentrate."

"I was going to do that anyway, but thanks for the advice," Ginny remarked dryly. "You're really making me feel better about this."

"You're not supposed to feel good about it!" Ron snapped. "You know our jobs are one of the most dangerous ones out there! If Harry's not concentrating on what he's doing, he – or someone he's in charge of – could get seriously injured or even killed. He can't afford _any_ slip-ups, so neither can you, since you're obviously the only thing distracting him!"

"Listen, Ron, I really am sorry for what I said. You can relax. Harry and I will talk and I'll make sure I don't do anything like this again," Ginny said after a staring at Ron in pensive silence for a few seconds.

"If it's not too much to ask, could you straighten out the rest of your issues now that you're talking to each other again? I'd kind of like my best friend back now." The pensive gaze turned into a glare and Ron found himself taking a step back at the murderous look on his sister's face.

"I've been telling you for two years that what's going on between Harry and me is between him and me, and I still refuse to explain everything to you. However, I can tell you that we've already talked a little about that, and closure does sound like a very good idea." Ron couldn't help chuckling at his sister's response.

"Have you been practising for the interview again?" he asked with a wide smile.

"Shouldn't you go get your beauty sleep?" Ginny shot back, annoyed. Ron laughed.

"Probably, yeah. I'll bet you anything it's going to be fun at the office tomorrow."

x-x

When Harry got to his kitchen for breakfast the next morning, he found Ginny already reading the Daily Prophet on the chair he always sat in.

"You're in my seat," he muttered, going to pour himself a cup of tea. Ginny looked up from the newspaper, smiling radiantly at him.

"Good morning to you, too," she said in a sing-song voice that reminded him somewhat of Luna Lovegood. "I was a little surprised I woke up here today."

"Yeah, well, you had fallen asleep by the time I got to the Burrow, and since my medical potions are in here, your mother insisted that I should just get us both back to my flat." Harry wished Ginny hadn't brought that up – she would probably ask how Harry had transported them there, and that might be an uncomfortable conversation.

"You should have woken me up," Ginny told him with a slight frown. "I don't think it's recommended for people with injuries like yours to do much heavy lifting."

"You weigh about as much as the average feather and I know that once you wake up you can't get back to sleep again," Harry retorted before he could stop himself. The small, genuinely surprised smile on Ginny's face made it worth the awkwardness, although he still felt like kicking himself for being affected by her smile.

"When did you leave the office? Ron stopped by around midnight and said you weren't in any hurry to leave yet," she remarked, peering at him over her teacup, the Prophet now laying forgotten on the table.

"Why did Ron come to the Burrow?" Harry asked. He had a bad feeling about this; he figured Ron was too curious for his own good.

"He wanted to ask me something. Listen, Harry, about that – I'm honestly sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn't mean to imply anything like that. I think you heard from Ron that my team's management wants me to give an interview because there are so many mad rumours going around, and the reporter wants to do it tomorrow. I wasn't thinking about how I said what I said, and I wanted to apologise for that," Ginny said seriously. Harry sighed.

"Yeah, I figured that was what he was doing," he said. He really needed to have a serious talk with Ron today about Ginny. "You don't need to apologise for anything. We haven't been a couple in almost two years, you can date other people."

Considering that he had spent most of the previous night thinking about ways to seriously hurt Ginny's date, this admission took a lot out of Harry. Perhaps Ginny could see that too, or then she just disagreed with what he was saying.

"Yes, I do. If I did go out with someone else, I would _never_ ask you come along. That'd just be cruel." She hesitated for a second – Harry could see her biting her lip – then spoke again: "Will you come to the interview?"

"How important is it?" Harry asked with a deep sigh. "I already explained yesterday that we don't really have enough people for this sort of thing, so I can't give anyone else any of the stuff I'm working on. If it is important, I can come with you, but then I'll have to work around a few schedule issues."

"Well, your reasoning sounds kind of overwhelming, but I was told in no uncertain terms to do this. They're already losing a lot of money because I'm not playing and I don't think they're too happy with it," Ginny replied slowly. Harry nodded.

"All right, I'll do it. Tell that reporter we'll meet him in the Leaky Cauldron at one o'clock," he said.

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny said with another bright smile. "Could you do another favour for me, please?"

Harry looked at her, curious – it wasn't like her to ask favours from people she was barely on speaking terms with. Then again, maybe she put him in a different category.

"Don't be too hard on Ron. You're not yourself, and he doesn't really know how to deal with it. He's trying to look out for you," Ginny said softly. "He's just trying to do the right thing."

"Yeah. I'll have a chat with him to straighten a few things out," Harry replied. He knew Ron and Ginny had had their share of arguments during the last couple of years, and he was almost relieved to see her standing up for her brother. Some things would never change. "I'm not angry with him or anything, don't worry about that."

"He told me about that reassigning incident." Harry laughed at Ginny's statement, and she gave him a strange look – clearly she thought he was a few marbles short the whole set.

"I tell you I'm not angry with him and you go and say something like that? I'm beginning to think you really don't want me to be all right with Ron coming to talk to you," he said with a grin. Ginny smiled slightly.

"Yeah, well, I thought you should know that if you feel like being around me and having to put up with me is too much, tell Ron to stuff it and just reassign him." She was completely serious as she said this, but Harry could see it was as difficult for her to say it as telling her she could date other people had been for him. She was nervously fingering the charm of her necklace again as if to draw strength from it, and her other hand was gripping tightly to the teacup.

"I don't think I'll be doing that," Harry told her quietly, seeing for himself that Ron had been right. If he did hand her out for someone else, it would hurt her. He didn't think he could ever bring himself to do that, no matter how bitter he was about the way she had left him. "I still wouldn't trust anyone else with you, remember?"

He had almost forgotten he had told her that, but he could see from the smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes that she hadn't. Actually, Harry was willing to bet that she had been thinking about that statement when she told him she wouldn't mind some other bodyguard. She had known he always kept his word.

"Right. You know, I promised Ron I'd try to talk to you about what happened two years ago," she started timidly, and Harry froze on his chair with his teacup halfway to his lips, "and I was wondering if you could... you know... listen?"

He just sat there, with the teacup in his hand completely forgotten, staring at her while his thoughts raced at the speed of light. She wanted to talk – did that mean she was going to explain? Would he _finally_ find out why she had left him? Did he even really want to know?

"And what does that mean exactly?" he finally asked, sipping on his tea at last.

"It means that Ron thinks we should start acting like adults and settle the thing, and I agree with him. I think you deserve an explanation. When do you think you can leave the office before midnight so we could talk?" Ginny asked, obviously unnerved at the mere thought of that particular conversation. Harry shrugged, trying to get his mind back on track.

"I don't know. If nothing new happens, in a few days, probably. It depends a lot on a few things. But I promise we can have that chat this week," he said, thinking about all the things he had to do at work in the coming days. Wouldn't Ron just love it if he left at dinnertime today and asked his friend to take care of everything urgent?

"All right. Do you think you could warn me beforehand? So I could, you know... Prepare for it?" Ginny was somewhat awkward and obviously still not really comfortable with the whole idea.

"Yeah, I think so," replied Harry with a slight nod. A heavy silence fell as they both sank into their own thoughts. Harry had to wonder again what he had got himself into; he wasn't sure he really wanted to know why things had happened the way they had.

x-x

"_Can you tell me about it now?" Ron's much too loud voice pierced Harry's consciousness much too early in the morning. "When it's got me lugging you all over London, it's the time you let me help with it."_

"_What are you talking about?" asked Harry hoarsely, opening his eyes so he could actually see his surroundings. He quickly closed them again, for the room was much too bright and everything was spinning and making him nauseous. His mouth and throat were dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Memories of the previous day – and the days before that – came back with a crash that almost physically hurt, and his heart sank back to the dark, bottomless pit it had spent the past week in. All of a sudden he wished he had never woken up._

"_I'm talking about last night. You know, when you were supposed to have dinner with me and Hermione just like every Friday since I moved out from here, but you never showed up?"_

_Harry couldn't quite decide if Ron was just angry or both furious and worried. Since he'd been concerned the whole week, Harry figured that he still was, possibly twice as much, and it made him feel terribly guilty. It took him a moment to realise Ron was still talking._

"...a_nd then we both panicked and went looking for you, and we found you at a Muggle pub. And then I had to drag you home half-way through London, because you were so drunk you couldn't Floo, Apparate, or walk. Not that there would've been too many places to Floo from."_

"_Bloody Hell. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Harry promised with a groan, thoroughly disgusted with himself. What had he been thinking? He cracked open his eyes once more and was a little surprised to realise he didn't recognise the room. "Ron – where are we?"_

"_In your flat, my old room. I would've taken you to yours, but this was closer, and, well, you protested quite loudly." Harry groaned again, and Ron sighed deeply._

"_Can you tell me what the hell is wrong with you, mate? I can understand that it hurts, but why can't you talk to Hermione or me? And why on earth did you go to a Muggle place alone? I don't think I need to tell you how stupid that was, especially getting yourself to that condition while you had no one to take care of you," he said quietly, sounding so sad Harry felt even worse. It was quite an achievement, since he had thought he was at his lowest already._

"_You remember when you still lived here and you kept teasing me about how happy I suddenly was?" Harry mumbled, deciding that maybe he could talk to Ron a little. He saw his friend nodding, so he continued. "Yeah, well, suddenly I'm not, and I think I liked the opposite a lot better. Realising that there's really nothing I can do now except admit that it's all over hurts. A lot."_

"_You know what they say – better to have loved and lost than never loved at all," Ron said, trying to sound cheerful but failing spectacularly. Harry closed his eyes again – the darkness was much gentler on his tired mind._

"_Tell me that again in six months, maybe I'll believe you then."_

x-x

The Leaky Cauldron was crowded with people who were having a late lunch, and while Harry personally preferred it for the anonymity, it was a nuisance from an Auror's point of view.

As he was perhaps the best known wizard of the age, and also an Auror, he both loved and loathed crowds; for him, it was easier to blend in when no one had the chance to look at him twice, but on the other hand, everyone else could do the same. He could relax a little because he didn't have to worry about being recognised and at the same time, he had to stay more cautious than usually.

The full pub made him anxious, and as he and Ginny took a table at the far corner, he instinctively began looking for the fastest route out.

"So, this reporter we're meeting with," Harry said, doing his best to sound cheerful and casual, "how did he contact you?"

"He didn't," Ginny replied with a shrug. "He owled the Harpies' management, and they told me to do it. I don't even know the name of the bloke."

This did nothing to ease Harry's discomfort, but the sight of a man dressed in a set of forest green robes determinedly heading their way took his attention off of telling Ginny just what he thought of what she had told him.

The man strode to their table and sat down without further ado, a wide, excited grin on his face as he nodded to both Harry and Ginny in turn in a way of greeting.

"I am really so excited to finally meet you in person, Mr Potter. I can't even remember how long I've waited for this," he said cheerfully, "and for starters, I have to say your godson has quite a charming personality."

Harry's wand was pointed at him before he could utter another word.

"Oh my, where are my manners?" He didn't seem at all flustered, he just kept smiling. "I completely forgot, how silly of me! First of all, before you lose that temper of yours, Mr Potter, I would like to tell you that there is a very volatile combination of Potions inside that lovely jokeshop down the street. I have a friend at the entrance to the Diagon Alley, and he'll go and make sure that that combination explodes if you do something to me. That would blow up half the Alley, and it would be downright nasty, wouldn't it?

"Second, I'm currently using Polyjuice Potion. If you want to confirm that, you need to find a Muggle called Piers Polkiss. Of course, he's dead now, so he won't be able to tell you anything, but perhaps it would give you a peace of mind."

"Why are you doing this?" interrupted Harry, not quite knowing what to make of the man sitting right in front of him. The first impression was that the bloke was mad as a hatter, but something told him differently; the cheerfulness and the smiles that so violently clashed with the plain threats seemed very carefully calculated. It wasn't something that came naturally for the man.

"You're the Auror, Mr Potter, it's your job to figure out the motives! Now, where was I? The introductions. Right. I'm your Cat. You're my Mouse. Have you enjoyed our little game so far?" The innocent smile was really ticking Harry off, and even at the risk of a huge explosion at the busiest wizarding street in England, he was very tempted to just blast the bloody bugger out cold.

"Oh yes, it's been simply wonderful. It's got me seriously considering retirement already," Harry replied. "What do you want?"

"You didn't come for our appointment in the Three Broomsticks, so we had to schedule a new one. Not showing up was quite rude of you. And because I'm getting tired of parchment and we don't have access to that wonderful Pensieve of yours anymore, I'll also give you a clue in person."

Possibly to make Harry ask what it was, or for dramatic effect, the man paused for almost a full minute. Harry just stared at him, patiently waiting, even though he was so anxious his hands were shaking slightly.

"You're no fun! All right, here it comes, listen carefully: Someone around you isn't quite as trustworthy as you'd like to think. Or anything you think they might be. Well, I must dash. Good day to you. It was lovely to see you, too, Miss Weasley – I'm a big fan. It's a shame you're on the reserves now."

Harry sat frozen in his seat and stared after the man. Now that he was looking for them, he could spot many familiar features on the bloke - it was Piers Polkiss, one of Dudley's old friends; there was no doubt about it. Damn.

"Harry, what was that?" He had almost forgotten Ginny was there, and her frantic tones startled him somewhat.

"That was an introduction, apparently." Harry paused, still a little taken aback. "And just for future reference – the next time you're having an interview, tell me _in advance_ if you've never seen the reporter before!"


	6. Chapter 6: Ginny's Tale

**Chapter 6 – Ginny's Tale**

Before the obvious answer came to him so suddenly and everything became blissfully clear on that front, Harry had been slowly going insane. Despite everything he had gone through with the Weasleys, he had been suspicious of each and every one of them, and both guilt and a feeling of betrayal had been eating him up alive. He couldn't believe one of them might be behind all this, and he couldn't believe he was even considering it. They had all proven themselves trustworthy on more than one occasion and he loathed to even think about them letting him down like that.

The cryptic exchange with the man in the Leaky Cauldron had made him paranoid, particularly after the load of Potions they had found in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes afterwards. Also, Piers Polkiss had been found dead in an alley near his childhood home; it had been disconcerting for Harry to find someone he had once known in the place he and Dudley had been attacked by Dementors. He had never been friends with the bloke, but he couldn't say he was happy the man was dead. All this had enforced his anxiety until he had felt so pressured he had been ready to scream.

Ron, too, had been at a stalemate. Even the idea that someone in his family might be involved in something like this was disgusting and offending, but at the same time, he couldn't help thinking that if one of his brothers did have something to do with this, he wanted to know. Even if only to lock him in Azkaban and publicly sever all ties with him, Ron wanted to know who it was.

And then, in one bittersweet notion as he was sitting in his office, having once again gone through the memory of the "interview", Harry had realised who it was. It had instantly relaxed them; the frustration of not getting anywhere, only setting off one trap after another while just waiting for their opponents' next move had vanished. They had instantly formed a plan of what to do, but unfortunately, it would have to wait until the next morning.

This left Harry's evening free, which meant it was time to have the talk with Ginny. Harry was having very mixed feelings about The Conversation, as he and Ron had dubbed it: he had wanted a reason for two years, but on the other hand, he didn't want to know because it was too late to change any of it now.

Even Flooing Ginny at the Burrow and saying he had to work after all wouldn't have saved him from the discussion, since he had an order from the Minister for Magic himself to go home. Ron, the git, had gone to Kingsley and explained the situation when it seemed Harry was getting cold feet, and Kingsley had promptly ordered Harry to go to Ginny instantly.

So there he was, in the back garden of the Burrow, waiting for her to come out so they could go to his flat where they would have some privacy. Only, instead of Ginny, he was joined by Molly Weasley. Harry had never really seen the woman so anxious when she was alone with him, and he knew what was coming before she had even reached him.

"Harry, can I have a word with you?" Molly asked, wringing her hands nervously. Harry was stunned for a moment – where was the woman who had always been so fierce in everything she did? Hermione's words of how much Molly had worried of the disagreement between her and Harry came back to him, and he realised Hermione was right. He never should've doubted her in the first place – he had known Hermione for thirteen years, after all, and the woman was always right.

"Yeah, of course," replied Harry, and Mrs Weasley smiled in relief.

"Ginny told me a little about your history with Romilda Vane. I'm really very sorry, dear," she started, sincerely apologetic. "I just wanted to see you happy again. I can't bear it that it was my little girl that hurt you so. I know it was uncalled for and I shouldn't have been so angry when you didn't like the idea."

"Mrs Weasley, honestly, you don't need to apologise for that," said Harry quietly. "I'm kind of touched, actually. George told me you've been doing the same for him and Charlie."

"But I need to apologise for what I said. You will always be welcome to the Burrow, and I wish you would start coming to our family dinners every Saturday," said Molly seriously. Harry smiled slightly.

"I just might," he replied, and Molly hugged him tightly.

"Going out with Ginny or not, you're a part of our family," she told him sternly, "and don't you forget it."

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," said Harry with a small smile as Ginny finally got to the garden. Harry noticed she was smiling very widely, and he got the feeling she had planned it all out. She had only been back in his life for a week and she had started planning things for him already – Harry didn't know whether to be very grateful or just very worried.

"Is everything all right between the two of you now?" asked Ginny happily, her smile turning into that radiant grin Harry had always loved so much when he nodded in response to her question.

In the week that he had lived with her, Harry had gotten used to the reminders of the Ginny he had known. The old little gestures and habits and the expressions she had on when she was angry, glad or thoughtful had increased in number as the days went by and she relaxed more around him, and they were always accompanied by a wave of longing in Harry. Still, nothing had yet brought as much of a reaction out of him as this particular smile had, and suddenly Harry was very glad Mrs Weasley was there – otherwise, he might not have been able to resist the urge to just grab Ginny and kiss her.

"Shall we get going now, Harry?" It took surprisingly much out of Harry to shake himself out of his reverie to reply to Ginny – as it was, he only managed another nod, and she moved closer so he could Apparate them to his flat.

When he had redone the wards with Bill, they had made it so that Harry was the only one who could Apparate there; Ginny could Disapparate because she needed a fast way out should anything happen, but to get in she, too, needed Harry. And even though they had done it about a million times already, getting so close to her still got Harry's heart pounding.

"Are you ready?" he asked when she had a vice-like grip on his arm. He had to struggle to make his voice sound normal, and was relieved when it didn't sound at all hoarse. At Ginny's nod, he said goodbye to Mrs Weasley and Apparated to his flat.

"Do you need a minute or are we going to have that conversation right now?" asked Ginny, measuring him with her eyes. "I've had hours to prepare myself, but you look a little... distressed."

"I've just been planning what Ron and I'll be doing tomorrow for four hours. It's a tad straining, to say the least, and I just can't get the implications out of my head, but I'm fine," replied Harry, shaking his head slightly. "If you want to, we can start now. Better to get it over with as soon as possible, right?"

"Right," muttered Ginny, leading the way to the living room that was right next to the kitchen. She sat on the sofa and waited while Harry sat down next to her. When Harry looked to her, gesturing that she could start, she nervously tucked a lock of her long hair behind her left ear. Her right hand had already grasped the charm of her necklace.

"Why do you keep doing that?" asked Harry curiously. Ginny looked at him, surprised, clearly with no idea of what he was talking about. "You know, that thing with the necklace. Why do you still wear it, anyway?"

"It's a lovely necklace, why shouldn't I wear it?" Ginny countered, smiling slightly. "You should know I've got very fond memories of this necklace – and especially the charm. I could never take it off."

Oh yes, he knew what the golden, heart-shaped charm that hung on the thin golden chain meant for her. Or at least, he knew what it symbolised, but it really wouldn't have been hard to guess. The thing was shaped like a heart, after all.

"I just thought you might have wanted to take it off. Considering..." Harry let his voice fade out because he really felt a little too awkward to put it so bluntly just when she was about to explain.

"It is kind of strange, isn't it?" asked Ginny, chuckling bitterly. "But we'll get to that in a minute. Before we go to my reasoning, I'll recount a little of the background, if you don't mind. It will make the whole thing a little more comprehensible. Or at least it should."

"All right," said Harry slowly, again silently wondering if this really was such a good idea.

"The first year after the war was hard on all of us, as I'm sure you remember – Fred, Tonks and Remus were dead and we were all hurting. Our family was in shambles because we were all coping in a different way. And then I had to go to Hogwarts for the final year, away from the only good thing there was at the time. I'm talking about you, of course," Ginny started her recounting in casual, almost cheerful tones, despite her earlier nervousness. Harry had almost seen her flipping the switch into this new attitude, and he was sure that whatever it was, she was acting.

"I was always counting days to the next Hogsmeade weekend – I think we both were," she said, smiling fondly at him, "and after I'd met you there, I always acted like the giddy, lovesick teenager I was. Christmas and Easter were heavenly because you were at the Burrow and I could spend whole days with you – at the time, I couldn't even think of anything better."

Harry could vividly remember he, too, had felt a lot like Ginny had just described.

"And then came the summer. I can honestly say it was one of the best I can remember. Everything was so new and exciting and for some things that happened, I'd waited for so long... After I moved out the Burrow, I practically lived with you and Ron, and I just loved being able to see you whenever I wanted to," continued Ginny with a far-away look in her eyes. "When I started with the Harpies, I had everything a girl could ever wish for – and certainly more than I had ever really dared to imagine. I had the sweetest boyfriend in the world who I loved and who loved me so, I had the job I had dreamed of since I was five years old, and such a handsome income I could afford anything I wanted. And for a Weasley, that's a very big plus.

"But they didn't pay me for just flying around the pitch – they really made me work, too. That year I was physically more tired than ever before, and I loved you more than ever before, because you didn't mind me being tired and grumpy and lazy. Every day after practice I dragged myself here, and you always fed me and took care of me when I really couldn't lift a finger. I hardly ever even visited my flat, I just butted in here. I complained that on my days off the sunshine woke me up too early, and by the next morning you had those curtains in your bedroom.

"I felt so bad for using you, but I really needed you. And honestly, I still can't believe how you put up with me. You had your own job, which was just as demanding as mine, maybe even more so, and whenever you had free time you spent it with me. You were so sweet and thoughtful and gentle that if I hadn't already loved you, I would have fallen in love with you by the end of the second week. As it was, I had already fallen, but it deepened and got more serious."

With each word she spoke, Ginny looked and sounded more and more ashamed of herself, and soon there was a note of self-loathing in her tones. It contradicted strongly with the loving tones she used when she described him and their relationship, and Harry realised that she regretted something – he couldn't quite tell if it was throwing away what they had had or the way she had dropped everything and run.

"Eventually, I got used to the exhausting practice sessions, and our time together got to be more than you waiting on me – and I loved every second I spent with you. When Ron and Hermione got married, all I could think of was what our wedding was going to be like. Then, one morning, I woke up before you did, as usual, and I watched you sleep. You had wrapped your arm around me like always and you looked younger and so innocent," she said, and Harry decided it was a good time to ask about what was on his mind.

"It sounds like we've got to the actual reason now," he interrupted, "and if you're going to tell me you just woke up one morning and decided it was a good time to end things, I think I'm really going to scream."

"Sadly, that wasn't what I was going to tell you," retorted Ginny dryly. "Where was I? The morning. Right. Well, I just lay there, watching you sleep, and I was hit by how incredibly much I loved you then. And I realised that every good memory I had after the war involved you. Like I said earlier, since Fred died, you were my rock. You stood by me and brightened my day, took care of me when I needed it and knew me better than I knew myself. You symbolised everything good in life – hell, I could go as far as say you _were_ everything that's good in life. Nothing felt as enjoyable when you weren't there and achievements meant nothing if you weren't there to celebrate with me."

Suddenly a wave of understanding hit Harry, and he knew what she would say before she had said it. He didn't know what to think, say or feel, but he knew that if she only asked it of him, he would never be able to turn down picking up where they had left off. He had already turned his back to her once, when they had been going out just for a few weeks, and it had been hard on him then. To do the same now, with his feelings as deep as they were, would completely destroy him for sure.

"And then – then I started thinking about what I'd do if you weren't there. What if something happened to you? The chances of someone attacking you are quite big – either at work, or then a mad fan who you'd never see coming. You could be killed so easily. Or what if one day you just told me that you didn't love me anymore and were going to run off and marry some Veela cousin of Fleur's?" Ginny's voice was shaking violently. "I don't know where the thought came, but after I got it into my head, I couldn't get rid of it. I was constantly afraid for you when you were at work, and when you got home, I worried that you'd tell me we need to talk and then announce that we were through. I just – I couldn't live like that. You can call me a cowardly idiot for doing it, but I left you before my fears could come true."

She was now trembling all over, her arms were crossed and tears were dripping down her chin. Harry was quite sure he had never seen her so vulnerable before. Some people might have thought she seemed pathetic, but to Harry she looked beautiful. She always did.

Harry had never even in his wildest dreams imagined that this could have been Ginny's reason. When Harry had known her, she had been a confident, brave woman, not someone who fled at the first sign of trouble, and definitely not someone who ran at just the thought of difficulties. As surprised as he was, though, it was nothing compared to how insulted he felt at her lack of trust in him.

Ginny had had her issues with going out with the Chosen One, even though she had very rarely expressed them. It had felt like everywhere they went always had a nutter who was more than willing to come and flirt with him, give him her address and make outrageous suggestions that blatantly crossed the line of good taste. Ginny had tried to act blasé and joke about it, but she hadn't liked it one bit, even if Harry had never paid those girls any attention and found it a nuisance.

And then there were the articles. When there was no new gossip, Harry Potter was always a good subject to write about, and so countless stories about him and Ginny had been published. Many of them criticised Ginny for her looks and profession, called her completely unsuitable for Harry, because of course the hero of the wizarding world deserved someone not only beautiful but also intelligent. Someone who only played a sport for a living was clearly inappropriate. Thankfully the articles had stopped after a while, because Ginny had a lot of fans herself, but the damage had been done.

Harry had always assured her that she was the only one for him and none of those people knew what they were talking about, but clearly all that had fallen on deaf ears. Cynically, he thought that perhaps the fact he hadn't gone out with anyone in the year and a half since she left him had assured Ginny that he had meant it.

"I wished I could undo it the minute I arrived at my flat. I think I've already mentioned Ron, Hermione and George all told me how miserable you were, and I felt even worse because I had known I'd hurt myself, but I hadn't really thought you'd be hurt so bad. You always seemed infallible before that – you always fell on your feet and just kept going after all the difficulties that came your way, and I don't think _anyone _was really expecting you to break down like that when I left. Eventually even Hermione stopped talking about you, and I just assumed you were back to normal." Harry knew the story Ginny was telling was about to end, and she would ask him to comment. He still had no idea what to say. "I saw for myself that you're not the same when I came here last Friday, and I really wish you were. You're so tense all the time, you're not really comfortable around anyone anymore, and I hate that I did that to you."

That was it. She stopped talking and stared at him, obviously waiting for him to tell she should pack her things and go to Ron. A part of him felt like that wouldn't be such a bad idea. A considerably bigger part, however, completely disagreed.

"Well, that was informative. It's only too bad you didn't tell me all that a year and a half ago," he said, having tremendous trouble with trying to voice what he was thinking. "I haven't been counting or anything, but it's been 612 days. And you know what I did most of those 612 days? I tried to figure out what I did wrong. I never got even close to getting it right. I always thought I did something to mess up the best thing that had ever happened to me, but no, it got ruined because you didn't trust me."

Ginny had gotten even paler, and she was biting her lower lip so tightly Harry was sure she was going to draw blood any second. That familiar, endearing little gesture really tested his self-control, and provoked him into confessing something he would later regret.

"And you know what the best part is?" he asked her with a bitter chuckle. "It's the reason I agreed to act as your bodyguard and offered you a place here. I still love you, and I really can't help it."

When he leaned to kiss her, she tasted metallic – like blood – because she had bitten her lip so hard, but it wasn't enough to mask that otherwise everything was still the same, only so much more mesmerising. It felt exactly the same as it had 612 days ago, and for a few moments it was like that time without her had never existed. Only after his bedroom door had clicked shut behind them did Harry realise that she felt thinner and stronger now, and remembered they weren't the same people anymore. Very briefly, he wondered what the hell they were doing, but then Ginny's mouth was on his again and all conscious thought flew out the window.

x-x

_The sound of someone clearing his throat woke Harry up very suddenly. He tried to get up to see who was at the door, but his efforts were thwarted by a distinctly feminine arm. Harry's eyes flew open as he realised two things: one, it was Ginny who was with him in his bed, and two, it was Ron, Ginny's quite protective older brother, who was less than ten feet away from them. Ron had probably put two and two together, and Harry felt rather lucky he still had all limbs attached._

"_George's in the kitchen. Don't wake Ginny up," hissed Ron when he noticed Harry had awoken and strode away, most likely to join his brother. Quietly, Harry got up and quickly dressed, a little surprised he didn't feel ashamed in the least. Glancing back to the sleeping redhead on his bed warmed his heart a little, and he smiled to himself as he realised how much he had sounded like a corny poet during the past year. He was doing it even in his thoughts now._

"_Good morning, Casanova! Your shirt's inside out," George greeted him cheerfully, pulling up a chair for him. Harry looked down and felt his face heat up as he realised that he should have taken the time to dress properly. He refused to comment on it, though, just looked to the two Weasleys again. The difference between the brothers was almost comical; George was so excited he could barely sit still, and Ron looked like Harry had just killed his dog._

"_Morning, George," replied Harry, sitting down warily. He was relieved to see Ron still didn't have his wand out._

"_So, you got busy last night," said George. Harry wasn't sure if it was a good thing that George had been elected to do the talking. He just nodded in response._

"_Ah, he's not one to kiss and tell, I see – that's good, Ronniekins, for our sister's reputation. She's obviously learned something from us; always stick to the quiet ones!" exclaimed George with a grin. "Wouldn't do for a rising Quidditch star to end up in the cover of one of those rags because she had a fling with a chatterbox."_

"_Let's just get to the point. We know how happy she makes you, and how happy you make her, so don't hurt our little sister, and we'll be happy for you. It's really that simple: be a gentleman, and everyone's happy," said Ron impatiently. "And please make sure I won't find you like that again."_

"_We'll be having this talk with Ginny, too. Of course, we won't ask her to be a gentle_man_, but since we're so attached to you, we wish she wouldn't hurt you too bad," added George, now seriously. "Honestly, we love seeing you two together. Maybe just not exactly like that."_

x-x

"This is a little too familiar for my liking." Harry didn't even need to open his eyes to know what the surroundings would be; Ron would be standing at the door staring at him, Ginny would be with him in his bed, and his and Ginny's clothes would be thrown haphazardly across the room. Harry knew exactly what Ron was talking about; the scene was very familiar – maybe minus Ron. He realised that he and Ginny were in the same position they had always slept in. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, and her arm went across his chest.

"What time is it?" asked Harry hoarsely. He still didn't open his eyes, because he really didn't want the reality to sink in. He was sure he had completely lost his marbles. How could he have done it?

"It's half past eight. We agreed I'd come here and we'd talk about tomorrow, remember? I think we're going to talk about something else, though," retorted Ron. Harry couldn't determine by the tones what mood Ron was in, but he figured he should mentally prepare himself for another trip to St Mungo's.

"How did you get in?" Harry couldn't quite remember if Ron did have a way of getting into the flat even with the new wards. He supposed that Ron did.

"You and Bill showed me how to get in from the door. There's that identifying enchantment on it," came the response.

"Right. Go entertain yourself somewhere else while I get dressed," said Harry, reaching for his glasses that were on the nightstand. He finally opened his eyes to see Ron walking away, to the living room, probably, and Ginny staring at the roof, looking resigned to the situation.

"Will it sound strange if I say I missed this?" she asked, and Harry suddenly felt like laughing, because it was all so stupid.

"Maybe a little," he replied, "considering Ron catching us was awkward enough the first time around."

"Prat," retorted Ginny with a laugh, sitting up so spotting her clothes would be easier. Harry sat up, too, cringing noticeably as his abdomen was suddenly so painful it felt someone had stabbed him. Ginny gave him a worried glance, but didn't comment on it.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked timidly after a while of silence, and Harry's odd urge to laugh vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yeah. I've always meant it. Why do you still wear the necklace?" Lying now would hardly make things any better, so he might as well tell her what he really felt. Although at the moment he would have described his state more as 'shocked and mortified' than 'madly in love', he had meant it earlier.

"I promised you I'd never take it off for as long as I love you, like you asked me to, and I haven't stopped yet," said Ginny quietly. Harry didn't know if he was more scared or elated by that revelation.

"That's... That's good to know," he choked out. "I need to go and get my ass kicked by your brother. I have to talk about this with him, because he needs to know everything that might have anything to do with the case."

"How is this related to your job?" asked Ginny, sounding a little hurt.

"I just got physically involved with the person I'm supposed to be protecting, and I could get reassigned for it. Other than that, it isn't," replied Harry. "Let's just get dressed and I'll go talk to Ron. Persuade him not to murder me or something like that."

"I think he's more likely to seriously hurt me," said Ginny with a snort. "Look what I did to you before. If he thinks someone needs protecting, it'll be you."

"Nah," said Harry, shaking his head as he looked for his underwear, "when it comes to you, I'll always be the threat. You saw it when we first talked about me helping you. My sister this and my sister that, and he's always thought that way. I swear, when he read that story in the Prophet – and that was a nice touch, by the way, didn't have to explain it to anyone – he was ready to punch me for hurting his sister."

It was odd, in Harry's opinion, that he and Ginny had just made a huge mistake that could very well land him in all kinds of trouble and would most likely make things between them even more awkward than they had been before, and now they were having a casual conversation. They were talking about _Ron,_ of all people, while they tried to find their clothes. If that wasn't just plain odd, Harry didn't know what was.

"Really? Funny. He seemed ready to murder me when he dropped by at my flat that evening. And he didn't talk to me for two weeks after that, aside from the occasional Howler. Of course, I can't really blame him because I deserved all that and more." Harry tried not to stare as Ginny pulled on a shirt. One of his shirts, actually. "In case I didn't say it before, I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, I know," replied Harry, now somewhat uncomfortable. He wasn't sure that just saying she was sorry was enough. "We can talk about this later, Ron's waiting for us."

He was taking the coward's way out, trying to buy himself more time to think, and he had a feeling Ginny knew this. She didn't comment on it, however, and Harry knew she knew he needed a little time to consider.

"Technically, I think he's waiting for _you_," she corrected, and he chuckled.

"You don't really think I'm going to go in there alone, do you?" he asked, and she smiled slightly.

"Let's go then, my fearless bodyguard," she said teasingly, and Harry cringed. He really wished she wouldn't remind him of what he was supposed to be. "What? What did I say?"

"You just voiced my problem. I'm supposed to be your bodyguard only," he said with a sigh. "I'm sure Ron will explain it all gladly."

"Do I want to know what's taking so long?" called Ron from the living room, and Harry shook his head in amusement.

"Speak of the devil..." he muttered, then raised his voice to reply to Ron: "Hold your hippogriffs, we'll be there in a minute!"

He checked he had all his clothes on the right way, and then looked to Ginny. "Ready?" he asked, and she nodded, rolling her eyes but smiling all the same.

When they got to the living room, Ron's first reaction was a grimace at the sight of Ginny and Harry.

"Couldn't you have bothered to put on your _own_ clothes?" Harry presumed this was directed at Ginny, for she had just pulled on a T-shirt of his and her own jeans. Now that Ron mentioned it, it did feel a little inappropriate, but she had used his clothes frequently when she had lived with him, so it hadn't really seemed the least bit weird to him before.

"Are you going to tell Robards?" asked Harry shortly, ignoring the question. It didn't really matter if Ron didn't like what his sister was wearing – that was the least of his problems at the moment.

"Are you insane?" exclaimed Ron indignantly, and Harry instantly felt better. "I've been waiting for you two to do something about this disagreement of yours for almost two years, now that you're doing something together I'm not going to be the one to ruin it!"

"Will one of you tell me just why you're so afraid of Robards?" piped in Ginny. "Harry won't get in trouble because of me, right?"

"Well, probably not, since Robards knew from the beginning about your history. It's not like this was a first time for you. Besides, he's Harry Potter, so he could get away with anything," said Ron with a shrug. "But it is serious, because we're not supposed to get too close, and we both already were. Robards hasn't been too happy about it at any point. If this changes things between you two – which I both hope for and wish it wouldn't happen – we might have to think again about this arrangement."

"Which means?" asked Ginny, her voice trembling slightly. "They can't take Harry off this case altogether, can they?"

"They could do that and worse, but since we're not telling anyone nothing will happen to him," said Ron. He turned to Harry solemnly. "I'm trusting you with my sister now, mate. Please don't make me regret covering for you."

"Have I ever?" replied Harry seriously, and Ron shook his head, grinning, but quickly sobered up.

"Okay. Please pay attention to the next part, because I don't really know how to tell you this and I'm only going to try once. I've never even pretended to understand how you two work. You get together by kissing in the common room, you break up, you give each other snogging sessions for birthday, you fight so fiercely even I'm afraid of you and then make up five minutes later, you break up and announce it in the _Prophet _before telling us, and when you're finally talking again, you shag each other instead of actually speaking. But – I can't believe I'm saying this – I heartily encourage you to continue whatever works so you can settle this thing," said Ron sincerely. "If not for yourself, then please do it for the rest of us, because we're going insane just watching aside."

"Thank you, I think," said Harry, somewhat awkward but taken all the same. "We did talk, too, you know."

"Really? Can you tell me now what it was that broke you up?" asked Ron curiously, and Ginny groaned. "What? You told Harry already, right? I had to practically drag him out of bed every morning after you left, feed him and look for him all over London when he strayed to whichever pub was closest – don't I deserve to know what caused that?"

"I was an insecure idiot, all right?" Ginny was all but shouting; it looked like laying on the guilt had been a little too much for her. "I just started thinking one day that what if I lost him – if he died or got killed – and I realised I wouldn't be able to take it, and then I ran. Because I was a coward. And obviously I still am, because it took me almost two years to even talk to him again!"

Ron sat in a shocked silence, stock-still, staring at his sister. Harry was already getting worried about the two of them; first of all, what Ginny was saying – what she had been saying the whole afternoon – didn't fit her at all. She had never been one to run when she was a little insecure. Second, Ron was suddenly acting very odd, too.

"Go and talk to George," he finally said, very abruptly, to Ginny. "Go and talk and get your old attitude back. Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve, remember? The sixteen-year-old Ginny would kick your ass in a second if she could see what you've turned into."

He stood up and glanced at Harry. "At the Burrow at half past nine in the morning. We don't really need to talk about it, we've got the plan perfected. I'll see you then."

And with that, he left, leaving Ginny on the verge of tears – again – and Harry completely mystified. After the week Harry had had, it was a feeling he knew well.

x-x

_It was a sunny afternoon, and the field outside the Burrow they had always played Quidditch in was now occupied by four redheads lying on the ground._

"_You know, watching clouds might be a little more interesting if there actually were some," said George. The other three laughed._

"_Yeah, it's hard to determine the shape of non-existent clouds," agreed Fred. "And you know it too, Ginny. We can all tell you had something else in mind, so enlighten us – why did you drag us out here?"_

"_I just wanted to spend time with my favourite brothers," said Ginny. "You know, to enjoy life. Even if only for an afternoon. It's hard to do that in the house, with all the people coming in with all the disturbing news."_

"_We enjoy life even when we're not lying on the grass staring to the sky like idiots," retorted Ron, and Ginny snorted._

"_Oh, really? You do?" she asked sarcastically. "'Cause, you know, the last time I paid attention, all you did was worry about what's going to happen next."_

"_Well, the last time I checked, so did you," shot back Ron, who seemed a little insulted. His comment only made her smile._

"_And that's why we're here," she said, "to not worry for a while. And because I've worried enough about what's going to happen to you when you leave, and what might happen to these two dolts, and that we haven't spent any time together like we used to when we were kids."_

"_It's kind of hard not to worry, Gin-Gin." Fred actually sounded tired, and that didn't ease Ginny's anxiousness in the least. "Since George and I actually leave the Burrow every now and then, unlike you two, we don't only hear stuff, we see it, too. Now that Dumbledore's gone, people are getting even more freaked out than they were before, and it's not a pretty sight. I liked Diagon Alley much better the way it was a few years back."_

"_We decided we're not going to let You-Know-Who affect us as much as he's affected almost everyone else," piped up George. "We were actually talking about it just last night. We'll fight him tooth and nail, and eventually, we'll win. And if we take this all as an adventure, rather than just think of it as the nightmare it really is, it might be a little easier to bear."_

"_You really think we're going to win?" asked Ginny quietly. "Because I feel like we've only lost so far."_

"_Yeah, what happened to Dumbledore was a loss. And a big one, at that. But it hasn't really been about him in sixteen years, has it?" said Ron. "Harry will beat him. He always has up till now, and he's not going to let us down at this point. We'll be there to help him along the way, too."_

"_I think you mean _you_ will be there to help him. And Hermione," retorted Ginny bitterly. "But not the rest of us. You're going to leave us all behind."_

"_Ginny, even though you're not going with them doesn't mean you can't help," said Fred. "Haven't we trained you better?"_

"_I know anything is supposed to be possible, but I just don't see how I could help when I'm locked up in Hogwarts," she replied. "Somehow I can't picture Harry coming in for a consultation when they hit a wall with their little operation."_

"_Then don't wait for him to _let you_ help them. Start up the DA again, prank all the pureblood bigots out of there and keep up the morale by showing others that the Death Eaters aren't going to stop you," listed George. "We'll be happy to supply you some tools for said pranking."_

"_And that's going to defeat Voldemort?" asked Ginny._

"_Well, maybe not, but it'll make his and his supporters' lives harder, and that's a win already," said Fred. "And you never know, it just might. Just always keep in mind that anything's possible if you've got the nerve. And we all know you've got it, so go on and make us proud."_


	7. Chapter 7: Tin Cans

**Chapter 7 – Tin Cans**

The back garden of the Burrow was idyllic. It was almost sickeningly sweet, in his opinion. The sky was cloudless and the sun was shining brightly, birds were singing and everything – the grass, the trees, the bushes – was green. If he could have chosen, this would not have been the environment for the little discussion he was about to have.

"Harry? Molly said you wanted to talk to me about something." He looked up as she sat down next to him on the grass next to the shed.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "We've been going through your house, Andromeda. And we think we can let you back there now that we've made sure it's safe."

"You mean we can move back home?" she asked enthusiastically. Harry glanced at her, and then to the window of Ron's old room.

"You can if you want to. But before you go there, I have to warn you. They really wrecked everything," he said solemnly. "The second floor was probably the worst."

"Yes, you already told me. But it's only the house and my things," she replied lightly, "the most important thing is that Teddy and I are safe."

"That's a good attitude," said Harry. Those little mistakes in that one answer had just proven his hunch correct, and he wasn't sure if he should be elated at the progress or extremely concerned. "Unfortunately, I'm here on a little more important business as well. I need to ask you a few things as an Auror."

"All right, go ahead," she said, shifting slightly and smiling at him.

"When I got to your house and found it had been broken into, you and Teddy weren't home. You got there after me. Where were you?" he asked.

"Well, you know Teddy likes to go to that park near our home every now and then. We were there for a few hours – or Teddy was, he played with a friend of his while I ran a few errands," she answered, sounding very sincere.

"You left him alone with someone his age in a park?" Harry asked, fighting to keep down the resentment he felt. He had to keep telling himself to stay calm, because really he wanted to be shouting and cursing and using his wand instead of just coolly sitting down and talking. And where the hell was Ron? The git should've come out by now!

"Of course not. His friend's mother, whom I trust very much, was there," she said indignantly. "Was there anything else you needed to know?"

"Well, there is one thing, yeah," said Harry slowly, mentally cursing Ron again for staying in the house. "Who are you and what have you done to Andromeda Tonks?"

"Excuse me?" The woman visibly faltered as she hastily stood up. Harry got to his feet as well, determined not to let her get away, even though the sudden movement caused a painful twinge in his midriff. "I _am_ Andromeda Tonks!"

"You had us fooled for a few days, but not anymore. You can start talking now, or we can force you to, but either way, I want to know where the real Andromeda is," he said seriously.

Harry was very nervous and fervently hoping he didn't look like it; this woman had been listening to some of their most important conversations for a week now and knew full well that his little injury still hadn't healed. With one well-aimed punch or a kick she could render him completely incapable of following her, and after that, there would be no one to keep her from running outside the wards and Disapparating, since Ron still hadn't come outside.

"All right, I guess this is it, then," the woman said with a bright smile. The sudden change in her mood was bewildering to Harry – it was almost as if she thought it was a good joke. "You caught me! But I have to say, I'm proud of myself. I was so good it took you days to figure it out! Just so you know, the Polyjuice should wear out in a few minutes, and..." She eagerly went through her pockets, eventually pulling out a little crumpled envelope that she then handed to Harry. "I was supposed to give you this. How did you figure it out? What did I do wrong?"

"You brushed the destruction of the house off so lightly. Nymphadora's room was in shambles, and the real Andromeda would have cared about that, at least. Then there was that incident with Teddy. That very short kidnapping," Harry said distractedly, glancing at the envelope. It looked like another note. "It makes no sense to just take a child and then return him so soon. If they wanted something from Andromeda, Teddy's the perfect tool for bargaining. Plus, when I took Teddy to the hospital, you stayed at the Burrow. The real Andromeda would have come to St Mungo's."

"That was it? You found me out because of those little things?" the woman asked with a laugh. "Well, I guess you really are as good as they say. And I suppose I have to go home now that my part is over."

"Go home?" repeated Harry, dumbstruck. She just nodded. "Why do you think you can just go home?"

"Well, the game is over now, isn't it? I was told that I just needed to play along as a part of the game until it was over for me, and I think this is it," she explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Comprehension dawned on her face as Harry just stared at her; her smile slipped away slowly as she put the pieces together.

"It wasn't a joke, was it?" she asked finally in a horrified whisper. "It's all real? Oh my goodness. I've been helping them!"

"Do you know where Andromeda is?" asked Harry, purposefully talking slowly and evenly because he didn't want the woman to panic. Things were bad enough without a hysterical woman to deal with.

"No, I don't know anything! I was asked to take part in a little game, to pull your leg, and I thought, 'all right, I'll be able to tell people I've pranked Harry Potter', so I agreed. I was given that envelope to hand over to you, and then told that none of the stuff I was going to hear about would be real, but they didn't tell me anything else, I swear!"

Her voice was shrill and she was talking fast, and this time Harry cursed aloud. Ron really had better have a brilliant explanation for letting him handle this alone.

"Calm down. I understand. I've got a little insight to these people during the last couple of days and I honestly believe this is just another sick joke of theirs. We're not accusing you of anything, but I'll have to take you to the Ministry for a formal questioning. After it's done, I really think you can go home. All right?" he explained calmly, trying his best to assure her that everything was all right even though things were just about as far from all right as they could get.

Andromeda was missing and this complete stranger had spent a week looking after Teddy. All Harry could think about was that Andromeda was going to slaughter him when they got her home. _If _they got her home.

"All right. I understand. I think you should read the letter, it seemed to be very important to the people who put me up to this. I'm really, really sorry, Mr Potter, I really am, I had no idea..."

Harry had already turned his attention to the envelope, and when he glanced at her, he realised she was about to cry. _Brilliant._

"It's all right. Let's get inside and grab Ron, and then you can get to the questioning and Ron will take you home," he said with a sigh, taking a hold of her shoulder and steering her to the Burrow. He wasn't even sure anymore that Ron really was inside, because he hadn't come out at any point even though he was supposed to.

When he saw his best mate sitting at the kitchen table, he almost yelled out loud. Then he saw the rest of the Weasleys gathered around the table and the serious looks on all their faces, and suddenly his intestines tied themselves to a very tight knot. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news – these people didn't get so serious for nothing.

"What's going on?" He looked around, slightly confused. Then he saw the crumpled piece of parchment on Ron's hand and he felt the knot inside him tightening. He would have bet anything it was another letter from their antagonist.

"You got another note. Well, you and Ginny actually. See for yourself," replied Ron, tossing the parchment to Harry, who deftly caught it. He straightened the note and quickly read it through.

_Dear Mr Potter & Miss Weasley,_

_Thank you for providing last night's entertainment! The spectacle between you was highly entertaining. It truly is a shame you chose to go with the Harpies, Miss Weasley, you would have made an outstanding actress._

_Mr Potter, unfortunately we are not so impressed with you. You are supposed to be a professional. Neither the Minister for Magic nor the Head of the Auror Office will be pleased with you, either, once they learn about this, as you will soon find out._

_We are sorry we have to do this, but a career such as yours is already so impressive that surely you won't mind if it gets cut short._

Harry let out a string of expletives that made half the Weasleys cringe and earned him disapproving looks from Mrs Weasley and Hermione. He crumpled the parchment in his fist and shoved it to the pocket of his robes. They really hadn't needed this.

"Right. It looks like I'm moving," he said shortly, not really feeling like commenting on it more than that.

"If they can find out things like this, then you'd better," retorted Ron. "We can sort that out later, right now I want to know what you'll do about Kingsley and Robards."

"I'll go and talk to them and hope that I get there before the letters. I don't have a lot of options, do I? They're going to find out anyway, it's better if it comes from me," said Harry, shaking his head, furious with himself. He really had been an idiot.

"What are you two talking about? What did the letter say?" asked George, voicing what seemed to be on the minds of the Weasleys. Ginny looked like she had an idea, but none of the others had a clue. At the moment, Harry was grateful for it. Even though they would eventually have to explain what was going on, especially if he was reassigned, he didn't feel like now would be the best time for it.

"It's nothing that concerns you. It's just a threat to Harry," said Ron, turning to his best mate again. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes. Let's just hope they're not going to reassign me, or better yet, fire me," said Harry tensely. "While I take care of that, you need to take the lady to questioning." Ron nodded, eyeing the impostor through narrowed eyes.

"Let's get going, then." Despite of the words coming out of his mouth, Harry really wasn't very eager to go. "Ginny, you know the rules. Don't go anywhere alone, don't go outside without an Auror, keep your wand handy at all times and all that rot. Where's Teddy?"

"He's in the living room, playing with Fleur and Victoire. They thought Teddy might want someone his own age to keep him company, especially now that Andromeda won't be here," said Bill. Harry looked at him, surprised.

"That's a good idea. Thank you," he said. "Ron? Are you coming or not?"

As Ron scrambled out of his seat, Ginny spoke hesitantly. "Harry, can I have a word?"

"Yeah, sure," replied Harry, somewhat surprised. Ron offered to go ahead and take the impostor with him, and Harry and Ginny followed him outside.

"They're blackmailing you about last night, aren't they?" Ginny asked. Harry nodded.

"Not blackmailing, really, just ratting me out," he said. "It's very convenient for them that I screwed up, now they can get the Chosen One off their case. If Robards and Kingsley decide to put me on probation or something, I'll be useless."

"Kingsley's your friend and he knows our history. He's not going to reassign you or put you on probation, and no one in their right mind would fire you," said Ginny, but she didn't sound too sure of it herself.

"He's the Minister for Magic, he can't start playing favourites and I can't ask that of him. Any other Auror would be punished, and so will I," replied Harry. "You know, they commented your story, too."

It was oddly disconcerting to see Ginny get so pale so swiftly.

"Really? What did they say?" she asked, sounding somewhat choked. She seemed suddenly so nervous Harry didn't know what to think. She had always been a terrific liar, so she could have really been lying to him last night, but if she thought she had been caught, why would she be so anxious? It was a dead give-away, after all.

"That it's a shame you went to play Quidditch because you would've made an outstanding actress," he replied evenly, looking straight into her eyes, challenging her to keep the eye contact. Defiantly, she gazed right back, but didn't say anything.

"You know, if it turns out you lied to me about something that involves them, I'm going to be really insulted," Harry continued casually. He didn't know where the idea had popped into his head, but if Ginny's departure had something to do with what was going on now and she still hadn't told him... Lying to him about what had happened would be bad enough as it was, but lying and not telling him something that the people they were up against knew was a whole different thing. That made it a million times worse.

"Everything I said was true," Ginny replied stiffly. Everything in her appearance screamed resentment; her undertones, the stiffness of her stance, all the subtle signs Harry had once been able to read so well. The glare she shot to the skies, to no one in particular, made Harry even more alert. She wasn't resentful because of him. "Don't you ever dare to accuse me of lying to you."

"If that part of the note is there just to make me doubt you, tell me," Harry retorted, trying to push her strange behaviour out of his mind and just focus on what she was telling him. Ginny said nothing to his comment.

"So you didn't lie, but you didn't give me the whole truth either," he said incredulously. He had bought it all, she had been so convincing and seemed so sincere. He had trusted her, believed her when she said she was honestly sorry, and now he could lose his job because of it. He had even felt sorry for her because he thought she had been just insecure and made a mistake, even though it didn't sound anything like her. Kingsley would be so disappointed with his blind faith and acceptance.

The fact that Harry had found the whole story a little dubious all along completely escaped him.

"You don't have all the facts yet," said Ginny quietly. "Don't jump to conclusions before you know what's going on."

"Tell me, then!" shot back Harry, almost shouting. Ginny shook her head feebly.

"It's the part I should have figured out on my own, isn't it?" he asked her, the volume of his voice dropping dramatically.

"I'll tell you when you come back from the Ministry, I need to get something first," answered Ginny, now visibly shaken. If Harry hadn't been so furious, he would have been very worried about her. "I promise you'll get the whole story later. Just – just don't give up on me yet, please."

"Give up on you yet? Damn it, Ginny, I gave up on you two years ago! Why do you think I never even tried to talk to you, why I never wrote or why I didn't come to the Burrow for an entire year after you left? I gave up! You were so determined to get out of my life, what else was I supposed to do?" He was yelling so loud he was sure the Weasleys would have heard every word even if they had stayed in the kitchen. As it was, he had a strong suspicion they were all standing behind the door, listening to the heated conversation – not that he could really blame them; no one had really told them anything about Harry and Ginny's break up.

"You know, I was supposed to ask about that. I never thought you were a quitter," Ginny shot back, obviously hurt by his words. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, well, I never thought you'd do half of the stuff you've done to me. Walking out, lying about something like this – I never really saw any of that coming," he spat.

"I've _never _lied to you!" Ginny cried out indignantly. Somehow, it seemed... half-hearted? That certainly wasn't the way Ginny Weasley argued, and this was a subject she should be rather passionate about. "I already told you not to accuse me of that ever again. You should know me better than that!"

"You really don't get it, do you? I don't know you! Two years ago I thought I did, but you've made it abundantly clear in the last two days alone that I didn't know you even then!" It felt a little odd to Harry to be shouting like that; he hadn't shouted when she had left, and after it, he hadn't really cared about anything enough to raise his voice, but he was definitely shouting now.

"And if I didn't know you then, how could I know you now? You haven't exactly been around in the last year and a half!" His voice had grown even louder, and he was sure that if there hadn't been a silencing charm on the wards, the entire Ottery St. Catchpole would have heard his every word.

"What was I supposed to do? Put up a tent next to the door of your flat in the hopes that you might actually get home one night?" shot back Ginny, outraged. There was a fire in her eyes that assured Harry she was undoubtedly passionate about it now.

"Telling me something was wrong in the first place might have been a good start! What the hell happened to you? You could have said something, anything, and maybe we could have avoided this whole mess. Why didn't you?"

The argument wasn't about the note's implications anymore, it was the one they should have had ages ago. It just made things more charged, and Harry was fairly certain this was one of those fights Ron had mentioned; the ones where they fought so furiously it was almost frightening.

"What was I supposed to say? Ask you if you had planned to kick the bucket again?" She was stalling; they had been through this so many times Harry knew their lines by heart, and he knew she was well aware of it. It just aggravated him more – why was she dancing around the real issues?

"Didn't we have this argument already? When you've had to turn yourself in to get murdered because you've got a piece of a Dark Lord's soul inside you, you get to tell me I did the wrong thing!"

"I never said you did the wrong thing, I'm just saying you could have said goodbye first!"

"Was I supposed to come and tell you that I'd be dead in twenty minutes and then just walk away? Do you have any idea how hard that would have been? And should I have given Voldemort more time to kill the rest of the people I cared about? Ron, Hermione, you, the rest of your brothers, maybe? You know how he instructed the Death Eaters! If they had come back, more of you would have died!"

It was the same old argument, the same old, worn out points that never led them anywhere. It was a complete waste of time, but neither one of them was in any hurry to stop.

"Well, it wouldn't have mattered to you, because you didn't think you'd be there, did you?"

"Of course it would have! I did what I did so that Voldemort could be stopped, so he wouldn't kill anyone else, of course I would have cared if he had continued the killing spree! But it's not the same, I'm not walking to the Forest when I go to work every morning!"

"Yes, you are! Pay attention some day. You keep sacrificing yourself _for the greater good,_ doing what you think is right no matter what the cost, you've been doing it since you were eleven! First the Philosopher's Stone, then saving me, chasing after someone you thought was a mass murderer to save a friend, duelling Riddle in that graveyard, rescuing Sirius – the list goes on and on! In the past few years, it's gotten so long I can't even keep track of it anymore!"

Now, this was new – they had never fought about Harry's job before. She had always understood that it was important to him to do what he did, even if it wasn't a nine-to-five desk job. Or he had always thought she had understood – it looked like he'd need to update that information, as well.

"You've only got yourself to thank for that! What else was I supposed to do with myself after you left? I still don't understand your logic – if someone's afraid of heights, they usually don't jump down from the ledge before anyone has the chance to push them down!" He was pushing her further and further, beyond the point of simple anger, but he didn't really care. She had hurt him so severely he had been dying to pay back some of it, as childish as it was. On some level, he had been itching for a fight the entire week, and she had just provided him a wonderful opportunity – as far as he was concerned, she had asked for it.

"It's not the same thing!" Her voice broke, but for the first time since Ginny had come back to his life, it wasn't because she was crying – it was barely controlled fury that caused it, something that proved that she really was the same Ginny, no matter what. Unfortunately, Harry was much too furious himself to be affected by that.

"It's exactly the same thing! You said you were afraid of losing me, so you decided to just cause it yourself! Would it even have made a difference? If something had happened to me, would it have been any different for you?"

His words were met with ringing silence. Ginny wasn't looking at him anymore; Harry had a feeling she was crying again, and he could feel something wet running down his own cheeks, too.

"No! It wouldn't have! It would've just made things worse. And this little problem we've got in our hands now? If you could have just come to talk to me when you got the first threats, this whole thing might have been over by now!" The shouting sounded much louder after a moment of quiet.

"Are you blaming me for this?" asked Ginny angrily, drying her eyes to the back of her sleeve, now looking livid again.

"Even I wouldn't be that stupid. I'm just saying I'm glad Ron's going to be looking after you from now on. It's what this whole argument has been about; I really don't know who you are anymore." Ginny just stared at him. It looked like she had run out of things to say. So had he.

"I need to get to the Ministry. I promise to look out for murderous lunatics lurking in the corridors," he said sarcastically. He didn't look back as he walked out of the warded area and Apparated away.

x-x

"Potter! Just the man I was looking for!" Harry cringed as he heard Robards's voice ringing down the corridor. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but he hadn't been looking forward to it in the slightest.

"Sir," said Harry, nodding slightly in a way of greeting as he turned around to face his boss. "I was on my way to your office. I think we have something we need to discuss."

"Yes, I agree," said Robards solemnly. "Minister Shacklebolt is waiting for us as we speak."

"You've got the letters then, I assume," replied Harry as the two men continued walking towards Robards' room.

"Yes. Is it true?" Harry's boss was unusually serious, and it did not ease Harry's anxiety in the slightest.

"It depends on what your letter said, but if we're talking about the same thing, then yes, it's true," said Harry with a sigh. "I'm sorry, sir."

Robards didn't respond, just kept walking, and Harry didn't know what to think of it. He was getting more worried by the minute; he had known, of course, that there would be consequences, but he hadn't really thought it would be so serious. He knew it was a big deal, of course, because there was a good reason for the rules he had broken. Aurors were not supposed to get involved so they wouldn't get subjective, and Harry had been so close already that getting involved with Ginny wasn't the best of ideas. Then again, with their history, it would hardly change things at all.

When they entered Robards's office, Kingsley was indeed waiting for them. He was sitting in Robards's chair, reading a piece of parchment, and didn't look up when Harry and Robards got in. Neither one of the Aurors sat down; Harry stood directly in front of the desk, while Robards walked next to Kingsley.

"I think you should read this," Kingsley said and pushed the parchment towards Harry on the desk. Harry picked it up, slightly surprised his hands weren't shaking.

_Dear Minister,_

_It has come to our attention that a Mr Potter, one of your Aurors, is breaking the rules concerning physical relations with protégés. His charge, Ginny Weasley, is living in Potter's home and the pair is even sleeping in the same bed. Auror Weasley can confirm this._

_As concerned citizens, we hope you do something about this. We can't have the law-enforcement breaking their own rules._

"Concerned citizens? That's an interesting thing to say," scoffed Harry, tossing the parchment back on the table. "Well, it's not correct on all points. It's true that Ginny's been living with me in my flat so I've been able to keep an eye on her. And it's also true that I've broken the rules 'concerning physical relations' with her, and yes, Ron can confirm that if you ask him. It only happened once, though, and I can promise it won't happen again."

"You slept with Ginny?" asked Kingsley. Harry nodded, swearing silently. Saying this conversation was awkward would be the understatement of the year. The Minister for Magic took a deep breath, and Harry could see he was about to hear his sentence. He decided he would be very grateful if they didn't fire him. If they didn't even reassign him he would be eternally grateful, and if they decided Ron should look after Ginny he might even name his firstborn after his bosses. Whatever they did, just getting him slightly further away from Ginny would be a huge relief.

"You've been one of our best Aurors for years. Devoted and hard-working, and you've completed more assignments than any other Auror after the war. If you've made arrests, you've arrested the right people. No one's ever complained before now," Kingsley said slowly. "We know of your history with Ginny, and we know you two breaking this particular rule isn't as serious as it would usually be. You and Ron are very close to the case already, and to be fair, getting involved with Ginny will hardly make a difference for you. Just do your best to control yourself from now on, all right? I think you can manage it until the case is closed."

"That's it? You're not even changing her bodyguard?" asked Harry, astonished. He was completely stunned; he had broken the rules, there should be consequences! Telling him to control himself was hardly a punishment.

"Consider it a test," said Robards. "Are you a professional or not? We still trust you, Potter, so don't let us down. So, they obviously know what's going on in your flat. Are you planning on doing something to stop that?"

"Yes. I will – well, Ginny and I will – move to a more secure location. A place protected by the Fidelius Charm," Harry replied. "Granted, they'll still know what's going on in my flat, but it will hardly be of any importance."

"And you're still not going to bring Miss Weasley in for a formal questioning?" prompted Robards. "You still trust her?"

Harry wondered if Robards knew that Ginny hadn't told him the whole truth at any point. He considered the question for a moment. Ginny had promised to give him the entire story later. Would he be able to trust that it was the truth?

"In all honesty, sir, doing that would still probably do more harm than good. Our relationship is very precarious as it is, and if I dragged her to the Ministry and shoved Veritaserum down her throat... I'm afraid she wouldn't be as willing to have an Auror as her bodyguard after that," Harry replied slowly. "But if the situation calls for it, you know I will do it."

"Good. Don't let your personal relationship interfere with the investigation," Robards instructed. "Get back to work and try to make some progress today."

x-x

"Robards was looking for you, have you seen him yet?" asked Ron when Harry entered their office. "And Hermione dropped by, too, on her way to her department. I heard about the fight."

"I'm really beginning to think I should've just gone back to sleep when she rang the doorbell. I have no idea what I'm going to do with her," retorted Harry as he slumped to his chair, and Ron's expression turned from concern to surprise.

"Ginny? You're still her bodyguard?" asked Ron, and Harry nodded.

"Kingsley and Robards got the letters and wanted to talk to me. They just told me not to do it again, and now I can't even give Ginny to you, since they told me keeping her around is a test to see if I'm really a professional or not."

"They want to see if you can restrain yourself?" Ron questioned, and Harry replied with another nod.

"No one needs to worry about that happening again, though. I might have a little trouble restraining myself when it comes to seriously injuring her, but other than that, I just want to stay the hell away from her," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"Watch it, mate. You're talking about my sister," retorted Ron, but Harry could see there wasn't much feeling behind it.

"Did Hermione say what the fight was about?" asked Harry, and Ron shook his head.

"She just said you had a blazing row."

"I asked your sister what the thing in the note meant. She insisted that she hasn't been lying, but she hasn't told the whole truth. And damn it, the people who are threatening us, who tried to kill me twice and kidnapped Andromeda know what it is! I heard from _them_ that she's lying to me! If you and Hermione were in a situation like this, wouldn't you feel like she'd stabbed you in the back?" asked Harry. He was really getting frustrated – he didn't like this turn at all, and there was no telling when he would get rid of Ginny again.

"I think you're exaggerating just a little. I'm sure Ginny has a reason for it. Just listen to her first and save your judgement for later," said Ron, but he didn't sound very sure of himself. "I'm not saying I'm happy with what she's doing, I just hope I know my sister."

"That's the problem! She's like an entirely different person. If I hadn't run a million tests to make sure it's really her, I probably would have arrested her when that bloke said someone around me wasn't who I thought they were," retorted Harry bitterly.

"You know, the same can be said for you. You changed a lot when she left, and sometimes even I feel like I don't know you at all anymore. But at least we all know what happened to _you _– do you have any idea why Ginny's like that? It started before you two broke up, so that can't be it." Ron hesitated a little as he spoke, obviously wondering whether or not this was a safe subject to stick to.

"No, I haven't got a clue. She hasn't really said anything about it – not before she left, and not now. Yesterday she told me she just woke up one day and started thinking about what she'd do if something happened to me or I decided to end things with her, and couldn't get the thought out of her head after that," said Harry. It was all just so frustrating to think about – if she had said something, maybe he could have helped. Maybe things would be better now. "But that can't be why she left – the way she used to see things, I would've expected her to make the most of every day we had rather than just cut it short."

"Maybe – maybe something happened to make her doubt her way of thinking," offered Ron, still quite hesitantly.

"_The thing about growing up with Fred and George is that you sort of start thinking anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."_ Ginny had basically told him she had got her attitude from her brothers. And what had Ron told her last night? _"Go and talk to George."_ The twins again.

Keeping that in mind, it wasn't hard to figure out what might have affected her; Fred had died. For the first year and a half, it seemed he had taken George with him, and that, if anything, would have changed the way Ginny saw her brothers. They had used to seem infallible to everyone – no matter what happened, they always fell to their feet or at least made it look like they had, but there was no concealing how hard losing Fred had been for George.

Ginny had seemed fine at the time – she had helped George as much as she could, trying to make her brother see _he_ was still alive and they needed him. She had stayed strong for everyone else, and Harry only now realised he hadn't seen Ginny cry once since Fred's funeral. Harry had known that she was falling to pieces on the inside, because the twins had been so important for her, but she had concealed it well – perhaps she had continued keeping her problems to herself.

"Bloody Hell," he said to himself, feeling like an idiot once again. "You knew it all the time, didn't you?"

"I guessed," said Ron with a shrug, "but it's not like she was very forthcoming with the information. I'd really appreciate it if you could talk with her about it. I mean, of us all, you've got the most experience dealing with... Well, dealing with losing people you're close to."

"If we ever stop turning the conversations into shouting matches, I'll try," said Harry, not at all sure he could do anything for Ginny. Maybe it would be best if they focused on what they were supposed to be doing instead of forming theories about Ginny's possible problems. "Where's our fake-Andromeda?"

"In one of the holding cells. There's a Healer doing an evaluation on her, and it seems like she's been lightly Confounded into thinking this was a good idea, so she can't be held responsible for what she's done. She also keeps insisting that you should read the note," said Ron, now all business and more sure of himself. "Oh, and the Healer said that the Polyjuice Potion should wear out any minute now, so we can identify her."

"She won't tell us who she is?" asked Harry absentmindedly as he searched for the envelope he had stuffed in one of his pockets. "When I spoke with her, she seemed very co-operative."

"The Healer's not sure, but he said she might be suffering from amnesia – she tried, but she just couldn't remember her own name, and it didn't look like she was just faking memory loss. I think whoever put her up to this didn't really want her to remember anything about them," replied Ron, staring at Harry thoughtfully. "You know, maybe that thing with you forgetting the attack was deliberate, too."

"Didn't the Healers say it wasn't?" Harry finally pulled out the note.

"They said they couldn't detect any magic that they know could cause it. The bloke down the hall couldn't, either, and the fake-Andromeda hasn't hit her head recently but still doesn't remember her own name," explained Ron with a shrug. "What does the note say?"

Harry opened the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. He cleared his throat and read aloud:

"_Dear Harry,_

_Well done! You have passed another of our little tests. Unfortunately (for you), this was not the last one, but to brighten your day, we have a pleasant surprise in store for all you hard working Aurors._

_To reward you for a job well done, we have placed a little present in the Shrieking Shack. The faster you go to collect it, the nicer your visit in the Shack will be._

_Have a pleasant day!_

_PS. The lovely Mrs Tonks would very much like it if you passed the next test as soon as possible. A little hint: you should visit St Mungo's, Mr Potter._"

Harry read it again with a growing sense of dread. It looked like they were aiming him now, if they meant his still painful injury. While he was grateful no one else – Teddy or the Weasleys, for example – had to suffer, the reference to St Mungo's made him slightly nauseous.

"I'm going to assume it refers to your injury. It hasn't healed, has it?" asked Ron quietly, and Harry shook his head in response. "Right. We'll stop by at the Shrieking Shack, and then we'll go to the hospital."

"We can't just leave our fake-Andromeda here," protested Harry. "We can go to the Shack together, but then you'll come back to interview her."

"All right, but if it's serious or if it's going to take more than an hour, send me a Patronus," said Ron seriously. "The interview won't take me long, so I'll come to keep you company after it."

x-x

"You think it's going to be a trap?" asked Harry as they stood outside the ramshackle house, doing the _Humanum revelio-_spell to see if there was anyone inside. According to the spell, there wasn't.

"I'm not sure," said Ron thoughtfully. "It could very well be one."

"So we'll have to be careful," Harry stated the obvious, and Ron nodded in agreement. "I'll go in first."

Blasting a door off its hinges, Harry entered the house, looking around warily. The only thing he could see was a mountain of tin cans piled to the centre of the room. A quick test on curses showed blank, so he beckoned Ron in.

"Tin cans? They're giving us tin cans for a job well done?" asked Ron in surprise, moving to take one. "_A Feast for the Feline._ I've fed Crookshanks every now and then for years but I've never heard of this brand before."

"It might be a joke of theirs. The bloke in the Leaky Cauldron called himself the cat, remember?" said Harry. "Don't open it. We don't know what's inside."

"Wait, there's an ingredient list on the side," said Ron, still examining the can. "Bloody Hell! We need to take these and get them properly inspected so we can see if they really are what I think they are."

"What does it say?" asked Harry, morbidly curious. Ron looked like he was about to be sick as he handed the tin can to Harry.

"All right," said Harry faintly after reading the side of the can, "I think it's safe to say we're not dealing with Death Eaters or their supporters."

"I think we're dealing with something worse. Even Voldemort settled for killing his victims, maybe torturing them a bit first – he didn't slice them up and store them in cans!" exclaimed Ron. "You need to get to St Mungo's _now_. The people who did this are the same people who attacked you, so you need to get checked and make sure you're not going to end up like this." He half-heartedly gestured to the pile of tin cans.

"I'm not leaving until you are," said Harry stubbornly. If these people were still around, he wouldn't leave Ron there by himself. "Let's just send them to our office and we can get going."

With a few flicks of Ron's wand, the cans vanished, and the two Aurors were left standing in an empty room.

"How do we know that that's all?" asked Harry. "There could still be something else in here."

Ron looked at him as if he had lost his marbles, but nodded slowly anyway.

"We could walk around the house once to make sure," he said. Thankfully, they didn't find any more creepy surprises, just cobwebs and dust and broken furniture that reminded them both of Sirius and Remus, and consequently, Andromeda. The thought of her in the hands of the people who sliced up other human beings didn't lift the grim mood in the slightest.

"So, get to the hospital and let me know if it's going to take a while. I'll go and interrogate the impostor," said Ron when they finally got outside.

"All right. If nothing new happens, let's meet at the Burrow once we're both done. We need to tell Ginny about this so she knows to be more careful, and we have to check on Teddy and explain it wasn't really his grandma who we took away," Harry suggested. He knew Ron was aware that Ginny didn't need to know the intimate details of what was happening, she knew she had to be careful, and Mrs Weasley probably had already explained to Teddy what was going on, but Harry just wanted to make sure everything was alright.

"Agreed. In the Burrow in an hour, then?" asked Ron, and Harry nodded, even though he had a sinking feeling he wouldn't be able to leave the hospital so quickly.

x-x

Ron was convinced it really wasn't his day when he arrived at the Burrow precisely an hour after he and Harry had parted ways at the Shrieking Shack. First there was that situation between Ginny and Harry; it didn't look too good, and the last thing Ron wanted was for the two of them to stop talking to each other completely. He had had quite enough of that in the last two years.

Then there were the tin cans. It had been very disturbing, to say the least, to find out that the cans really contained what the ingredient list said they did. Ron had never thought he could actually be disgusted at the thought of a dead Death Eater, especially after what had happened to his brother, but opening one of those cans and seeing for himself what was on the inside...

On a more positive note, they could now stop the search for the escaped fugitives.

The situation with the impostor that had spent a week in their midst annoyed the hell out of Ron, too. She had turned out to be a woman in her mid-thirties, but they hadn't yet found out _who_ she was. No one had reported her missing, and she still couldn't tell her name or anything else that would be of any use.

When Ron entered the house and found his mother and Ginny having a cup of tea while Teddy played with his toys on the floor, he was assured that it really wasn't a good day. There was absolutely no sign of Harry, and Harry would never voluntarily be late for something like this.

"Hello, Ron," said Ginny, eyeing her brother warily. "Is everything all right?"

"No," retorted Ron shortly. "Harry hasn't dropped by, has he?"

"No, he hasn't," replied Molly worriedly. "Weren't you supposed to be at the Ministry together?"

"Yeah, well, he had to go to St Mungo's," said Ron with a sigh. "The new note gave us a hint about the next _test_. It's about that injury of Harry's, which hasn't healed yet although it should have, so we thought he should go to the hospital and see if it's gotten serious."

"Uncle Harry's in the hospital?" asked Teddy, looking up from the floor. It was obvious the little boy was scared. "Is Uncle Harry sick? Where's grandma?"

"He'll be fine. He's going to explain what's happened to your grandmother when he gets here, and he should come any minute now," said Ron with an encouraging smile. "We agreed we'd meet here in an hour when we left Hogsmeade. He'll be here any minute now," he repeated, almost to himself – Harry was supposed to send a message if it looked like he wouldn't get there on time.

"What were you doing in Hogsmeade?" asked Ginny. She had paled considerably when Ron had mentioned Harry was in St Mungo's, and she still seemed upset.

"The note also told us they had decided to give us a reward of a job well done," replied Ron. "It was in the Shrieking Shack. We now have the escaped Death Eaters in custody."

"Why do you look like that, then? It's good news, right?" asked Ginny. Ron shook his head slightly.

"It is, except for the fact that they're dead. And the identifying is going to take a while," he said tiredly, trying to convey that it hadn't been a pretty sight without having to explain it so that Teddy would have nightmares. It seemed Ginny and his mother understood.

"Oh. So these people aren't with the Death Eaters after all?" asked Molly, and Ron nodded.

"Certainly looks like it. And we couldn't get anything out of our impostor, either – she doesn't even remember her own name. So, all in all, not a very good morning," he replied. There was an uncomfortable silence that was broken by the entrance of Harry's Patronus.

"_The note's not about me; need you in St Mungo's."_ Harry's stressed voice rang out in the kitchen, and Ron gulped. Not a lot could make Harry sound like that, and everyone in the kitchen knew it. Something was really wrong.

"I have to go," Ron said, glancing at his mother apprehensively to see her reaction. She looked very worried, but didn't do anything to stop him. Perhaps she was getting used to things like this.

"Er – did Harry reassign you?" asked Ginny hesitantly when Ron was about to leave. He halted on his tracks.

"Right – I almost forgot about that!" he said, his tones sounding abnormally cheerful even to his own ears. He really hadn't wanted to be the one to tell Ginny the news. "He tried to, but Robards wouldn't let him. Said something like since Harry's a professional he should be able to push the personal life aside. So, you're stuck with him. Or he's stuck with you. Either way, you're not getting rid of each other."

"What? He wouldn't let Harry assign me to someone else?" asked Ginny, stunned. "Is he insane? Look at what I've done to Harry! He's nothing like he used to be because of me! Does Robards want him killed next?"

"You were nothing like you used to be, either," pointed out Ron, "but look at you now. Getting all hot and bothered and _passionate_, aren't you? That's something I haven't seen in a while. Harry's been slowly getting, I don't know, back to normal again, too. Maybe you're good for each other."

"You're right. Be careful, Ron, and make sure Harry doesn't do anything stupid to get himself killed, either. I really need to talk to you both when you get back," Ginny said quietly.

Saying goodbye to the others, Ron left the Burrow for St Mungo's, not yet knowing that his day was about to get a lot worse.


	8. Chapter 8: Connect the Dots

**Chapter 8 – Connect the Dots**

_She really hoped Harry was all right. She really, really hoped it was nothing serious. She was clinging onto the edges of her seat so tightly her knuckles were white as she worried about her boyfriend._

_Ginny was sitting in the lobby of St Mungo's, waiting for her brother to come looking for her. Ron had just sent her a Patronus, saying Harry had been injured again. He wasn't here often, but Ginny remembered each time clear as a day._

_First there had been that unfortunate incident in the raid of a Death Eater's house, when Harry had come across some cursed cutlery. Eight months after that an arrest had gone a little awry, and both Harry and Ron had been treated for minor injuries. Six and a half months later a new recruit, fresh out of Hogwarts, had had a little trouble with his aim and he'd accidentally Stunned Harry, who had knocked his head on a table and had a concussion._

_Ginny had had worse injuries playing Quidditch, and usually she didn't dwell on what had happened to Harry, but sometimes she let herself think about what could have happened. The cursed cutlery could have done far worse than a few scratches. The man Harry and Ron were arresting could have killed either one of them with two little words. And she didn't really even want to know what had happened this time._

"_Hello, dear. You don't look under the weather, but you seem worried – are you here to see someone?"_

_Startled, Ginny looked up to see an elderly lady standing in front of her. She had been so concentrated on fretting over Harry and Ron that she hadn't noticed the woman at all._

"_Yes, my boyfriend was injured at work today," she replied politely. As she quickly glanced around the room, she realised there were no available seats, and the old lady looked tired. "Would you like to sit down? I'm just waiting for my brother, he'll be here any minute now, I could stand."_

"_Oh, no, darling, you don't need to get up," the lady said. "Your young man wasn't hurt bad, I hope?"_

"_I don't really know, but it can't be serious, otherwise my brother would never have left the hospital. Are you sure you don't want to take a seat?" Ginny asked. After a closer look, the lady did look a little ill._

"_I'm just waiting for my son and my daughter-in-law. If I sit down it will take me forever to get up again," the lady said. Ginny was somewhat alarmed to see tears in her eyes, and the older woman seemed to notice her concern, so she explained it: "My granddaughter has been a patient here for over two years, and she finally passed on today. Her parents are just saying goodbye, and then we will leave."_

"_I'm very sorry for your loss," Ginny said, shocked. She really was sorry. She couldn't even imagine how horrible losing a child or a granddaughter was – she could have never imagined how hard losing a friend or a brother would be before she had experienced it herself._

"_No one else is. She was exhausted and in great agony for such a long time it almost is a relief," the old lady said with a wobbly smile. "Unfortunately it does not really make it easier at the moment, but eventually it will."_

"_I know I already said it, but I'm really sorry," Ginny repeated. She felt like an idiot; here she was with a woman who had just lost her grandchild, and all she could do was keep saying she was sorry._

"_Thank you. Ah, there they come," the lady said, looking somewhere over Ginny's shoulder. "I hope you and your boyfriend will leave under happier circumstances."_

_With that, the lady left to join an obviously heartbroken couple without giving Ginny a chance to reply. The lady and the couple walked past Ginny on their way out. The lady's son, Ginny assumed, looked so lost it broke her heart, and his wife was weeping uncontrollably, her wails loud even over the usual noise of the crowd._

_Ginny felt her hands tighten their hold on the edge of her seat when the gaze of the lady's son met hers. She had been seriously underestimating his state when she thought he was just 'lost'. He looked like someone who had lost just about everything; he had an expression of disbelief, as if he couldn't quite comprehend what had happened, mixed with a desperation to do something to make it better, overwhelming grief and fury at the unfairness of the situation._

_He wasn't the first person wearing an expression like that Ginny had met in the past few years. Naïvely, she had wished no one would ever have to suffer so again, but there were other things than Voldemort that caused such grief._

_The fact that the war had ended a little over two years ago escaped Ginny at that point; all she could think about was that she really hoped Harry was all right._

x-x

Harry was waiting for Ron in the lobby of St Mungo's when he arrived. Without even greeting his friend, he grimly led the way to the Creature-Induced Injuries ward on the first floor. Pushing open the first door on the left, Harry let Ron enter first.

When his friend gasped in horror, Harry knew the redhead had seen the bodies.

"I got here just when the rest of the staff was about to alert the Aurors. Those are Healers Brian Jones and Augustus Pye. Pye's last patient left not ten minutes before I arrived. Jones was here, and asked Pye to consult, so when he was done with the patient, he came here," Harry started telling about the events, not looking at the floor. He had no desire to see it all again right now. "There was a Healer at the end of the corridor who swears that when the door closed after Pye went in, it didn't open again before she herself went to ask something from Jones, less than five minutes after Pye entered. There was no one in the room then, but I doubt Jones and Pye did that to themselves."

"I don't think it's even physically possible," inserted Ron in a strangled voice. "These people are sick."

"Yeah. But at least this isn't quite as bad as the tins. C'mon, let's get to the corridor. No need to stand in here now that you've seen what's happened," Harry replied, opening the door again. "The woman who found them is sedated right now. She was one of Pye's closest friends, and she was pretty hysterical when I arrived. She tried to help them, but it was too late."

"That would traumatise just about anyone," said Ron. "So the murderer just disappeared? How's that possible? I know they're good with wards, but Apparating or Portkeying out of here really is impossible. And we both know that the wards here are being monitored constantly, so they couldn't have altered them without us knowing. You think they had an Invisibility Cloak?"

"It's possible that he used an Invisibility Cloak and sneaked out when the third Healer tried to help these two. I don't think she would have noticed," Harry said with a nod.

"He?" asked Ron, and Harry shrugged.

"It's just easier to call the murderer 'him' instead of repeating 'the murderer' all the time. Just ignore it," he said. "Anyway, someone was in here, and sneaked out of the hospital without alerting anyone. I think it's safe to say he was concealed somehow, because he wouldn't have had time to change his clothes or clean himself up, even with magic, and after what he did, he would have been covered in blood and that _always_ attracts attention."

"Hiding is better than being in plain sight," agreed Ron. "He couldn't have counted on having time to clean up or change his clothes, that would've been just stupid, considering he was planning on killing people in the middle of the day in a crowded hospital. Relying on cleaning charms isn't particularly smart, either. Mum always complains that after the twins – _George _hands out Nosebleed Nougats for unsuspecting people as a joke, she has to work twice as hard as usual to get the clothes clean. Blood won't really come off, not even by magic."

"There's more than that," said Harry as he remembered again. "We didn't get a note this time. We got two files about the Healers. I glimpsed at them – it looks like they've done their homework about their victims. They have enough material on both of them to write their biographies."

"So this has been coming for a long time," said Ron pensively. "If they've had that much time to do such an extensive research, this wasn't planned in a week. It would take, what, months?"

"I don't know, I didn't look at the stuff so closely yet. We'll see when we get to the office," replied Harry. "But you're right, they've definitely been planning this for a while."

Neither one of them was in the slightest comforted by that realisation.

"Did the bodies remind you of anything? Or the way they were cut, to be precise," Harry continued after a moment of silence.

"It looked like something an animal would do," said Ron, shaking his head in disgust.

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear," replied Harry with a very slight smile.

x-x

_She was going to be sick._

_Ginny stared at the headline of the Witch Weekly's article about her and Harry and their break up, and it made her physically ill. The piece speculated the causes of their split-up – it looked like they blamed it on Harry having an affair with Hermione. The entire idea of Harry having an affair was ridiculous, and the fact Hermione had been drawn into it would usually have thrown her into a fit of laughter, but not today._

_She had really left Harry. There was nothing amusing in that. It wasn't entertaining in the least and it definitely wasn't meant to be talked about on the pages of publications like Witch Weekly. The whole thing just made her nauseous._

_The article in the Daily Prophet hadn't helped at all. She would have never said anything like that._

_Then again, Ginny hadn't really thought she could pull off her stunt at Harry's. Knowing that she had managed to go through it didn't make her proud of herself, quite the opposite, actually. If it was anything else that she had concentrated on so much for so long, it would have made her feel good to know she had succeeded. She had worried and wondered and then worried some more, she had thought it through and considered what Harry would have done in her situation, and then she had formed her plan and executed it._

_If she had had a say, she never would have left. If she even could have done it her way, she would have told Harry what was going on, but that had been forbidden in no uncertain terms. The brutal way she had been forced to use was eating her up alive, but it would be better in the long run – maybe Harry would stay away from her._

_Ginny couldn't believe she was hoping she would never have to talk to him again._

_The look on his face when she had marched out had shattered her heart into a million pieces and it haunted her in her nightmares. She was sure he was going to hate her, but he would understand eventually. He would figure it out. It was Harry – he always solved it in the end._

_She had found the ring in his drawer, and just the thought of it made her want to shout at the unfairness of it all. He would have asked her to marry him, and she had ruined it. She decided that this was it – she had done this to keep Harry out of it, but if she was asked to do anything more, she would say no. Now they could threaten her all they wanted, even kill her if they felt like it – they had driven her away from Harry and there was nothing worse they could do than that._

_She wished he would go and open the box where the ring was._

x-x

Ron and Harry were back in their office, with the files lying on Harry's desk. They hadn't touched them yet after leaving the hospital. A group of Unspeakables was working at St Mungo's, trying to figure out how the murderer had managed to leave the room without anyone noticing.

Harry was sitting on his chair with his feet propped on the desk, and Ron was stretched out on the sofa. Despite their relaxed postures both were on edge – the last two incidents were a little too much. They would have to ask for reinforcements soon if they didn't make any progress.

"Is it just me or does this seem more than a little disturbing to you, too?" asked Ron with a shudder. "I can't quite decide what it is that's the creepiest, though. That there's a group of people who've been planning your demise, possibly for years, and you've had no idea, that those people have been stalking you, that they've clearly planned this all out, or this latest disappearing act? It's a tough choice."

"Not my demise, necessarily," corrected Harry, "I'm not dead yet, am I? But a lot of other people are. We should be looking for a connection." He was stating the obvious again. Sometimes it made easier to see the bigger picture when they listed the facts, no matter how obvious, aloud.

"OK. So far they've attacked you, Ginny, Andromeda, Teddy, a few Death Eaters, the Dursleys, and now these two Healers," listed Ron, even though neither of the Aurors really needed a reminder. "Oh, and the Muggle bloke, that friend of your cousin."

"I think we can rule the Dursleys and Polkiss out. The attack on the Dursleys was a diversion, and Polkiss was little more than a costume," commented Harry. "I don't know if Teddy and Andromeda are involved, either, or if they've just been drawn into this because of me."

"All right, so what connects you, Ginny, the Death Eaters and the two Healers?" asked Ron. "There's plenty of stuff between you and Ginny, and if it's something related to Voldemort, it might explain the Death Eaters. I think we need a look at those files to see where the Healers could come in."

"If these people were his supporters, they wouldn't have killed the Death Eaters, and if they were part of an anti-Voldemort movement, why would they target Ginny and me?" asked Harry as he reached for the files on his desk. "Unless it's Voldemort himself, but that's impossible. We made sure he's completely gone. But if this is all about something related to Voldemort, say, something he or his followers caused..."

"Yeah, well, maybe we should concentrate on the Healers first. They might give us a direction," said Ron, and Harry had to agree with him. He handed one of the files to Ron, and then opened the other one.

There were all kinds of details on Healer Brian Jones. There was the more common information, like date of birth, the names of his parents, siblings, wife and children, his address, and the area of Healing he specialised in – he had been one of the most experienced Healers in Spell Damage, and occasionally helped in Creature-Induced Injuries. Harry had already known, before reading it in the file, that Healer Jones had treated many of the seriously wounded from the Battle of Hogwarts and the war, especially the victims of the werewolves. He had also been one of the two in charge of Harry's treatment after the attack that had started this mess for Harry, but Harry was relieved to find there was no mention of it in the file.

The more intimate details bothered Harry considerably. Whoever had put this file together had somehow known Jones's favourites – the music he listened to, which toppings he got on his pizza and which bedtime stories he liked to tell his children, for example. They had also taken pictures of his family, his house, the inside of his home, his office in St Mungo's and drafted a weekly schedule based on what appeared to be months of surveillance.

Harry read on to find more information about Jones's family – there was at least a page dedicated to each person. There were his parents, his sister and his brother, three pages on Jones's wife, two on both of his small sons – even the girl he had dated in Hogwarts was exposed.

Harry knew how hard it was to gather that kind of information. Unless the perpetrators had interviewed everyone, which Harry highly doubted, getting to know all that was in the file would have taken years.

"Harry? What did Jones specialise in?" asked Ron, slightly concerned.

"He was practically running the Spell Damage section, but you knew that already," replied Harry absentmindedly, still going through the file. "Why d'you ask?"

"He was treating you, wasn't he?" Ron continued his inquiries, and this time Harry only nodded. A small slip of parchment had fallen out of the file and fluttered onto his desk. Curious, Harry reached out for it.

"Yeah, well, this bloke was in charge of the Creature-Induced Injuries, and I remember he was a consult in your case. It looks like they've taken out the two Healers who were best fit to treat you," said Ron with a deep frown. Harry didn't hear a word, though, he was too concentrated on the note.

_Just imagine what we have on you._

"Ron?" he said, and his voice sounded oddly faint to his ears. "Ginny and I won't be the only ones moving. Everyone to Grimmauld Place."

"What?" This got Ron's attention off the Healers. "Why?"

"Did you see all the notes they had on the Healers? The people they're close to, just like with Ginny, the details on the wards, just like with Ginny and me... they've been stalking not just the intended victims, but everyone the victims knew! And they're telling us they've been watching us, and consequently, everyone we're close to. I want to put a stop to it." Grimmauld Place had a new Fidelius Charm on it – only people who Harry would trust with his life knew of the place. Even going through Harry's memories wouldn't help "the Cat" into the house. They would be safe there.

"Who do you mean by everyone?" asked Ron hesitantly. Harry thought for a second.

"You and Hermione, since you're involved in this, your parents if we can talk them into it, because the Burrow's such a well-known place, Teddy, of course, and George, because he's living alone," he listed finally. "Charlie's back in Romania now, so we can't really do much for him except tell him to be careful. Percy, Bill and their families can decide for themselves, but at the very least, the Burrow patrol will be turned into the Shell Cottage patrol."

"If they've been watching us as closely as they watched these people, I think we all want to get out of their sight for a while," said Ron in disgust. "So if you think you can put up with all of us for the time being, I think everyone will be just too glad to take you up on your offer."

"Good. I think I should check on the Dursleys and warn Kreacher that we'll be having a few more guests – after we've told the news forward, that is. Could you ask your brothers to come to the Grimmauld Place this evening for a little chat?" asked Harry, and Ron nodded.

"I think I should look the Healers up, too, after we've visited their families to tell the bad news. There's no sense in just trusting this," he said, tossing the file back to Harry's desk.

"Yeah. While you're at it, could you dig up their cases? Especially Death Eaters' or Voldemort's victims that died or were handicapped," Harry suggested.

"That's it, isn't it? The Battle of Hogwarts, that's how everything's linked! It must've been someone fighting on our side – the Death Eaters wounded a fighter, then our Healers tried to save the victim but couldn't. Now whoever was left mourning blames everyone – the actual killers, the Healers and you, for not turning yourself in immediately," said Ron, putting the pieces together. "Where does Ginny come in?"

"I don't know," admitted Harry, "but I think we'll find out soon."

"When you asked me if the cuts on the bodies reminded me of anything, you were thinking about Greyback and werewolves, weren't you?" asked Ron. Harry was impressed with the speed Ron was solving these bits of the puzzle. "It fits right in – the werewolves were with the Death Eaters, Jones and Pye healed loads of their victims after the battle, and now these people are killing their prey the same way their nearest and dearest was killed. None of the Death Eaters they killed were werewolves, though."

"Yeah, well, Greyback was already dead, at least, and now that I think of it, all the other werewolves whose names were available to the public are deceased," replied Harry. "But those Death Eaters were there anyway, so our killer could just as well blame them, too."

There was a while of silence as both Aurors mulled over everything they had found out that day.

"Harry?" Ron started again on the same concerned tones. "If this is happening because the Death Eaters wounded someone and Jones and Pye failed to save that person, and the relatives or whoever we're dealing with are really after revenge, they've already accomplished it, haven't they? The Death Eaters are dead, and now so are the Healers. If they do blame you for not killing Voldemort soon enough, you're the only target left."

"If our theory is right, then yes. But only if," said Harry. Ron didn't seem to find any comfort in that. "I'll be extra careful, I promise. Besides, it doesn't look like they're planning on killing me. They're just playing with me."

"Yeah, Crookshanks does that, too, sometimes. Catches a mouse and then plays with it for a while before eating it," replied Ron. Harry had to chuckle.

"You're really getting into this Cat and Mouse analogy, aren't you? The keywords in that sentence were 'catches a mouse'. If I'm their mouse, they have to catch me first, right? I'll try not to be an easy prey," he said lightly, trying to ignore the sickening feeling he had. Ron had a good point – Harry would be next, so if he wanted to put an end to this game while he could, they had to work fast. He wasn't anywhere near as confident as he was playing to ease Ron's concern.

x-x

Informing the Healers' families that the two men had died had been very unpleasant. Both Harry and Ron had known it would be, but they had still wanted to do it themselves rather than send out some other Auror – as Robards had reminded them they were fully entitled to do with the workload they currently had.

That duty call hadn't just made a bad day worse, but had also taken a little longer than Harry and Ron had expected it to. That meant the Weasleys had arrived to Grimmauld Place before Harry had had time to pop in to warn the Dursleys.

Consequently, when the two Aurors rushed to the house, they arrived just in time to see Harry's aunt threatening Bill with a frying pan and Charlie pointing his wand at Vernon and Dudley. The cracks of Apparation that announced the arrival of Harry and Ron had apparently distracted them just in time.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry realised what he had said only after the words had escaped his mouth. "Charlie, put the wand away. Aunt Petunia, same goes for the frying pan."

"Did you say 'aunt'?" asked Charlie, flabbergasted, lowering his wand. "These are the infamous Dursleys?"

"Yes. Petunia, Vernon and Dudley, meet the Weasleys," said Harry tiredly. He quickly went through the introductions. Everyone was there – George, Molly and Arthur, Ginny, Hermione, Bill, Fleur and their daughter Victoire, who was playing with Teddy in the corner, Percy and Penelope, Charlie and now Ron as well.

"I'm sorry for this," Petunia said with an awkward laugh, gesturing at the frying pan. "We just heard voices up here while we were in the kitchen, and after days of seeing only Harry, it got us a little worried. We've been constantly on edge ever since we moved in here."

"It's fine, Mrs Dursley," Bill said politely, "I can understand anyone would be on edge after days of talking to no one but Harry."

"Very funny, Weasley." Harry tried to keep a grin on his face, but knowing Bill's words weren't just a joke but also a deliberate slur at him made it difficult. Bill had been like that; polite and even friendly when he was actually talking to Harry, but then would throw a comment that never was clearly offensive but was certainly meant to insult. In a way, it hurt more than outright hostility would, but Harry had learned not to let it sting for long.

"I meant to tell you they were coming, but something came up at work. I'm sorry," Harry addressed his aunt, then turned to the Weasleys. "I suppose Ron didn't mention that the Dursleys are staying here for the time being?"

"No, he didn't," Charlie said, shooting a glare at her youngest brother. "Thanks a lot, Ron, you almost gave us all a heart attack."

"Sorry. I had a lot on my mind when I scribbled that note, I didn't think you'd actually attack Harry's relatives if you met them," Ron shot back irately.

"It was that bad, then?" asked Ginny nervously. "Harry said something came up at work. I take it that it wasn't good news?"

"No. Our fellows murdered two Healers and we just spent the afternoon telling their families that we have no idea who did it," retorted Ron. "My favourite part of the job."

"Yeah. Very gratifying," added Harry sarcastically, then sighed. It really had been a long day. "But never mind that right now. Welcome back to Grimmauld Place, everyone. Kreacher insists on keeping all the rooms ready for guests, so you don't need to think about that while you're choosing where you'll be staying – that is, if you've decided to stay here for a while?"

"If they can't get to us when we're here, where else would we go? I hate even the idea of being watched all day every day," said Molly with a shudder. "Thank you, Harry, for letting us live with you until this nasty business is over."

"It's really no problem," replied Harry with a shrug. In all honesty, sharing a house with all of Ginny's brothers would be almost intolerable if they continued acting the way they had for the last year and a half, but since Harry would be spending most of his time at work, he didn't really mind.

"I guess I'll let you get settled, then. Go pick the rooms, and if I know my House Elf, dinner will be at seven," he continued. "Oh, and don't go to Regulus's room. Kreacher's practically made a shrine out of it, I don't think he'd ever let me live it down if I let someone sleep there."

With a few odd glances at Harry, most of the Weasleys slowly started making their way upstairs. Ginny and Ron hung back, as did Teddy.

"Uncle Harry? Can I sleep in your room again?" Teddy asked, jumping up and down by Harry's feet, excited at being in this house once more. Whenever Andromeda had to do something that required Harry taking care of Teddy overnight, Harry brought his godson to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher loved having someone in the house, even though he still mainly worked at Hogwarts, and there was much more room for Teddy to play than in Harry's flat. The fact that it was much more secure didn't hurt, either.

When Teddy had been smaller, setting up a cot in Harry's room – Sirius's old room – had been the simplest option. Then Teddy had been a little scared of being alone in the strange house, and now he so was used to sharing a room with his godfather that Harry probably couldn't have kept him away even if he had tried.

"If you ask him nicely, I think Kreacher will set you up a bed in there," Harry replied with a smile, ruffling the boy's hair that was a bright yellow at the moment. "Go take your stuff upstairs, all right? We need to talk about some really boring stuff that Ron and I need to do at work, I know you'd much rather play with Victoire right now."

With a grin and a cheery wave, Teddy disappeared up the stairs. The Dursleys, too, hastily excused themselves after Ron cleared his throat quite loudly and did a not-so-subtle shooing gesture.

"This house is under the Fidelius, right? Are you absolutely sure there's no way they'll know what's going on in here?" Ginny asked hesitantly after the Dursleys had disappeared to the kitchen.

"If you're not referring to your family, then yes, I am," Harry replied.

"Good. It's time to tell you the whole story, then," Ginny said, a hint of determination in her tones. "Can we go to somewhere a little more private than the hall? I don't know if you want my family to hear this, either."

"Let's go to the living room," said Harry, leading the way.

"Are you planning on telling me the truth this time? 'Cause, you know, Robards doesn't really approve of my decision not to take you to the Ministry for a formal questioning. So far I've kept insisting that we can trust you to tell us everything and to answer all our questions openly, but this time if I even for a second suspect your story, I'll have forced Veritaserum down your throat faster than you can blink," he continued conversationally as they walked up the stairs. Like a proper gentleman, he held the door of the living room open for Ginny and Ron. With a few casual flicks, Harry both locked the door and cast a sound-proofing charm on the room once they were all inside.

"Can I tell you the whole thing first without interruptions? You can yell at me later if you feel like it," said Ginny, sitting down on the sofa. Ron and Harry decided to stand.

"All right," replied Harry. "Start talking."

"728 days. I haven't been counting or anything, but I've been their marionette for 728 days," Ginny began tiredly, mimicking Harry's comment to her first story. "The first note I got from them didn't come around Christmas, I got it long before I even left you, Harry. They told me to walk out of your life or else – I didn't take it seriously at first. I didn't even mention it to you, because I knew how you would have taken it. I didn't think we needed another episode of 'please go, I'm too dangerous' at the time.

"Then you were injured at work – it was that time you had to spend the night in St Mungo's. I got a second note saying I really needed to go before there was nothing left of you, and it scared me. I still didn't say anything, because this time I was told not to. They said they'd know if I even hinted at it. I didn't believe them. Remember when I asked you what I should do if I knew someone was being blackmailed?"

Ginny paused to see if Harry remembered – he had a very faint memory of the conversation; Ginny's question had come completely out of the blue, and he had thought it a little weird at the time. She had assured him that everything was absolutely fine, though, so he had put it out of his mind, but now that she reminded him of it, he couldn't believe he had been so stupid. At his hesitant nod, Ginny continued.

"Right. Well, the morning after that conversation, I got another note, telling me I should never do that again or someone was going to lose a limb or two. Was I supposed to say anything after that?" she asked with a sigh. "I didn't want to risk it, so I said nothing. The notes kept coming, with worse and worse threats every time, and finally, when half of the Harpies were being treated for severe 'food poisoning' and you two had both been injured three times in the same week, I had had enough.

"I couldn't take just sitting aside and watching everyone get hurt, with more and more serious injuries, and I couldn't just flat out tell you what was wrong because they would have found out, and they knew where everyone I cared about lived. I left before things could get even worse. I saw the ring when I was packing my stuff," she said with a sad smile, shaking her head ruefully, "and I decided I wouldn't just give up. I stuffed one of the notes into the box where the ring was, but you never looked at it, did you? I can't blame you, though. Damn, I wanted to kill myself after I walked out on you like that. It hurt so much, and I could see it was even worse for you."

The ring. Harry hadn't even been able to take it out of the drawer it had been in. If he had just trusted his instincts that had screamed something was off, if he had just searched for clues, this whole thing would have been over ages ago.

"Every time I asked Ron to tell me how you were and he told me to go to hell, I just wanted to scream at him that I was there already. Playing the part I was supposed to was hell even when they left me alone, and then, last Christmas, when I started getting the notes again, it got worse. I'd thought they would be happy if I was away from you, but then they started threatening everyone again, and I got sick of it. I'd already done what they asked me to do once, I sure as hell wasn't going to just keep fulfilling their wishes.

"That's why I came to you. I'd already ruined my own life trying to keep you alive, I wasn't going to let it all be in vain and just watch aside when they killed you this time. You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you what I'd done, but they kept blackmailing me. They've had Andromeda for two weeks now, and I couldn't say anything. Not a thing, or they would have killed her instantly."

This story felt more like Ginny – the way she was telling it did, too. The tears in her eyes were clearly tears of fury, and when her hands shook, it was because of suppressed rage and pent up frustration instead of nervousness.

"The interview was never supposed to be an interview, either, and damn, I hoped you'd say you wouldn't go. When I implied it would be a date, I just hoped you'd say no way in hell and stop the discussion, but you talked to Ron, and well, we ended up there anyway. I'm really sorry about that. I swear, I had no idea they would kidnap Teddy, though," Ginny said remorsefully.

"So they've been writing to you for almost two years and you haven't done anything about it until now?" asked Ron incredulously, apparently unable to wrap his mind around it. Ginny nodded.

"I couldn't! I wanted to, especially now, but they have Andromeda! If I had said something, they would have killed her instantly, and I couldn't do that! I knew I had to let you know something was wrong before anything happened to her, though," she said.

"You just did what they wanted you to do and never said something was wrong?" asked Harry, fighting to keep his tones calm and even. "Why the hell didn't you say anything? We could have done what we're doing now; protected your family."

"No, you couldn't have! We were being watched, and if I had said anything at all, they would have murdered at least one of my brothers while I explained what was going on," Ginny retorted angrily. "Don't you think I thought it through? Everything I said or wrote down they somehow found out, and they made it perfectly clear after the first time that I was not to do it again. Hell, if there had been any way at all to put an end to it that didn't include me breaking up with you, do you think I would have deliberately ruined the best thing that ever happened to me the way I did?

"I am sorry I had to do it and I am sorry it hurt you so, but I'm not sorry I did what I did. I'd do it again if I had to – I couldn't let someone die then just to save our relationship, and I wouldn't be able to do it now. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing, Harry." She, too, had to struggle to keep her voice steady and the volume of her speech reasonably low.

"What about the Healers, then? Or Piers Polkiss, or those men who they sliced up?" Harry asked coolly. "While the Death Eaters might have deserved it, the Healers certainly didn't, and Polkiss was completely unrelated to all this. Now they're all dead and there's nothing anyone can do to bring them back. 'I'm sorry' certainly won't suffice."

"I didn't know they had planned this! I knew as little of what was really going on as you did," replied Ginny, her voice now shaking wildly. Harry couldn't quite decide if it was guilt or anger that caused it.

"Well, 'I didn't know' isn't going to cut it, either! Would you like to explain to the mourning families that you've been in contact with the murderers for over two years but you didn't want to alert the authorities at any point? Mrs Polkiss, who has no one left now that her only child is dead, would probably be just thrilled if she heard! Or Mrs Jones, who lost her husband and now has to raise two boys on her own, both of whom are too young to ever remember their father!" Harry was fighting a losing battle, trying to stay calm, and so he ended up shouting at Ginny again.

"Or my cousin, who lost his best friend, or Teddy, whose grandmother is being held hostage!" Harry was breathing heavily, trying to stop yelling but failing miserably. "And me, yeah, I'm practically over the moon about all this. They've had Andromeda for two weeks, you said, and you came to ask for help a week ago? MY GODSON WAS IN THE HANDS OF AN IMPOSTOR FOR A WEEK BEFORE YOU DID ANYTHING!"

"Harry, calm down before you blow the place up!" Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and only then did Harry realise that the lights were flickering ominously. He turned away from Ginny and took a deep, calming breath. He couldn't even look at her anymore.

"And not only are three completely innocent people dead and at least one more life threatened because you stayed silent," he continued quietly, his voice trembling as he determinedly stared at a wall, "but you as good as stabbed me in the back by not saying anything. I spent almost two years in a living hell because I couldn't figure it out but I couldn't let it go, either, and now I find out that it was nothing but a ridiculous charade?"

Harry took another deep breath, steeling himself.

"I can't assign you a new bodyguard, but I can tell you to keep the hell out of my sight. As long as you don't leave the house, I don't give a damn what you do," he said frostily. "And if I find out that you're still lying, or that you're still holding something back, or if something happens to Andromeda..."

"That was the whole, honest truth, I swear," Ginny said so softly Harry almost missed it. "I know I've said it a million times, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm not asking for you to forgive me, I just want you to know I wish things hadn't turned out this way. You didn't deserve this. No one who got caught up in this did."

There was the sound of light footsteps, the clicks of the door opening and then closing again, and Harry knew Ginny had left the room.

"I can't believe this," said Ron, sounding so stunned and choked that Harry almost didn't recognise his voice. "The last two years have been nothing but an elaborate lie on her part? I just can't believe this."

Harry was finding it rather hard to believe, too. Not because it sounded false, but because he just didn't want to believe it. He was completely stunned, and if he had been angry with Ginny when he found out she was holding something back, he was well beyond furious now.

At the same time, he was a little impressed – keeping a painful secret like that for two years to protect the people she cared about was an extraordinary accomplishment, but it still was inexcusable. Who was Ginny to decide which lives mattered and which didn't? How was saving Harry or one of brothers worth letting other innocent people die?

Harry ignored the nagging voice in his head that told him he would have chosen his loved ones over complete strangers, too.

"Go ask her if she's still got any of the notes she's received. I'll go and get that damn box to see if she really left something there. Then we'll get the patient records from St Mungo's, and we'll get to the bottom of this before they do anything to Andromeda," said Harry. "We've wasted enough time as it is."


	9. Chapter 9: The Last Target

**Chapter 9 – The Last Target**

_The light was much, much too bright. After the killer practice Jones had put them through the day before, Ginny couldn't even turn away from the window, to face away from the light. With a groan, she pushed a pillow over her eyes._

_Didn't help – trying to get back to sleep was useless after waking up like that. And the pillow was suffocating her. She threw it out, and it hit the wall with a satisfying 'thud'. The ache in her muscles registered only when she tried to move her arms again and realised it hurt._

_What was wrong with her? Gwenog's practice sessions were widely recognised as the toughest in the league, but Ginny was used to it. She had pushed herself hard enough during her first two years that she now looked forward to the exercise rather than dreaded it. What the hell had she done wrong last night?_

_Wait… there hadn't been a practice after all. There had been an article. Speculations about the coming match. After the press release that certainly had not come from her, the public had been very interested to see whether Ginny Weasley would improve her game now that she was free from distractions._

_Free from distractions, indeed. Ginny had never had so much time for herself before – mostly because her family had never outright refused to talk to her before – and yet, she had never been so distracted in her life. The press was easy to avoid; she had had plenty of practice, after all. Ron's Howlers had been more difficult to deal with. They were always over in a minute or two, but her brother's words stayed in her thoughts for hours. Usually, she lingered on the latest Howler until she got the next one._

_They were always designed to be as hurtful as possible. Ron didn't need to tell her she was a very poor excuse of a human being, telling about Harry's nearly catatonic state was enough. It was strange; while Ron certainly succeeded in hurting her even more, she waited for the Howlers. They were the only scraps of news she got from Harry now that no one else would even look at her._

_She repulsed herself. The whole thing was just disgusting, but the worst was possibly how she felt about Harry's obvious breakdown. _He had it easier._ She hated that she had caused him so much pain that he was hardly able to function, but she was hurting, too. She knew it was horribly selfish of her, and she deserved no such thing, but she felt he had stolen her family._

_After a break-up, who was supposed to comfort her if not her family and her best friends? She was honestly very glad that Harry had someone there for him – she knew that was a luxury he wasn't used to having – but in that regard, she had been spoiled, and while she knew she had brought it all on herself, she still felt jealous and hated herself for it._

_That was why she was hardly able to move. There hadn't been a practice yesterday, but that hadn't stopped her from going to the pitch. Practicing the hardest feints and moves for hours, her little flying session would put Gwenog's practice to shame. And then the gym afterwards... Self-loathing was a brilliant tool to get you moving, but the next morning was always bad._

_As a professional athlete, Ginny knew the proper cool down exercises she was supposed to do, and stretching had been ingrained to her brain, but she also knew what would happen if she neglected it. And when you hated yourself and were looking for the pain you deserved, subtle methods were always the best._

_Slowly Ginny sat up, groaning in both pain and pleasure as her muscles protested. It felt like even her bones were aching as she rose to her feet and got dressed. She had most definitely succeeded in knotting herself up. And she had a practice session today. Perfect. It would hurt tonight, but she would feel loads better tomorrow, and she would be back in perfect form for Saturday's game._

_Going to the kitchen, she froze at the sight of another letter. There was no way she was doing anything more. With shaking hands, Ginny ripped the envelope open._

Thank you. You've been very helpful. Mr Potter is off the hook for now.

_So it all hadn't been for nothing, then. That was a good thing. That was what she had wanted. As the violent sobs shook her body, Ginny tried to tell herself that she was supposed to be happy now._

x-x

"Hey, Harry, where are you going?" Bill's voice registered in Harry's brain just as his hand closed in on the doorknob. Just a second later and he could have Apparated away, claiming he hadn't heard Bill calling out to him. This wasn't an encounter he was looking forward to – no talk with one of the three oldest Weasley brothers ever was.

"I was going to go get a few things from my flat," he replied, slowly turning around. He instantly decided he didn't like the calculating look in Bill's eyes.

"You're going to miss dinner if you take too long," the redhead pointed out, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. It would have been brilliant if Bill was only concerned of dinner and wouldn't mention Ginny, but apparently, that was not meant to be. "And I really wanted to talk to you about my sister."

"If we have that conversation now, you'll miss dinner, too," Harry retorted. "And I really do need to get the stuff from my flat."

"I meant it, Potter. You're going to have to talk to me about Ginny eventually, or…" Bill reached out to grasp Harry's shoulder as he was about to turn to leave, but Harry wasn't in the mood to listen to pointless threats.

"And you're going to have to let go of me _now_ or I'll have to arrest you for perversion of the course of justice, because this is keeping me from obtaining important evidence," he growled in response, shaking Bill's hand off. "If you've got a problem with me getting anywhere near Ginny, you don't need to worry, I have no desire to interact with her again if it isn't because I need information related to the case."

"That's not really what I was after," admitted Bill with a repentant expression and a small shrug. "I ran into Ginny just now. She's crying again, and you don't need to have Hermione's IQ to figure out it's somehow related to you. I just wanted to ask if it's something I might be able to help with. I'm really sorry you have to be around her like this, mate. I know it must be tough."

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder or something?" The words escaped from Harry's mouth before he could stop himself. "One minute you seem to hate me and the next I'm your best friend. I really don't get you – any of you. It must be genetic."

Bill looked surprised – and to Harry's annoyance, rather amused, as well.

"I'm sorry. You are a friend, Harry, practically family, but Ginny's my sister, you know? You two aren't the only ones who find this situation difficult," replied Bill. "Is everything all right? You seem a little…" Bill let his voice fade away, apparently not really knowing what to say next.

"I'm just beginning to seriously consider either handing in my resignation or retiring after I'm done with this," Harry shot back. Bill clearly took it as a joke, because he chuckled, but Harry had been serious, at least to some extent.

"Right. Well, go get your evidence. I'll tell mum it really was important enough to miss dinner." With a wink, Bill disappeared upstairs, and as Harry left, he decided that maybe the Weasleys really did mean well.

x-x

The public opinion seemed to be that there were only two kinds of pain: the physical pain, and the mental, emotional pain. Ginny Weasley had been introduced to a third kind: the crippling heartbreak that hurt both physically and on an emotional level, the kind that reduced your brain into a nearly catatonic state and made you feel like you couldn't breathe. She had experienced it before she had left Harry, but not to that extent, and she had never imagined something could hurt so much. And the worst thing was she hadn't been able to let anyone see she was in pain.

It was bad that she had been left all alone to cope, but she had caused that herself and she had been able to deal with it. It was bad that she had known she had caused it all herself, but as long as she had known it wasn't all for nothing, she was able to handle that, too. It had been almost intolerable to know Harry was going through the same, and she had caused it. But he was strong, stronger than she was, and she had always believed he would find a way to cope. He always did. It had been (and still was) unbearable to imagine someone she loved so much hurting so much _because _she loved him, but as long as she believed he would eventually be fine, she was able to take it. No matter if it hurt her even more, no matter if the pain became so much it turned her into a zombie – eventually Harry would be fine and if this was saving his life, and possibly the lives of her brothers, too, she would not complain.

But the worst thing, by far, was that through it all, she had had to pretend everything was normal. She had had to go about her day, smile to people and make polite conversation when all she wanted to do was sit in her dark bedroom and cry her eyes out. She had had to hide her pain. And so every smile, every greeting, every cheerful wave felt like a new blow when she was already so badly beaten she couldn't stand up anymore. Her urge to escape to her flat and cry was replaced by an urge to scream until she couldn't make a sound, and eventually she didn't even want to do that. She just wanted to crawl somewhere dark where no one would ever find her and stay there until she forgot why she was hurting in the first place.

And still, like a good little girl Ginny had gone about her day as usual, smiling and acting cheerful and pretending everything was fine. And everyone had believed her. She hated herself for it, and most of her family had resented her for a while, but no one had suspected something was very, very wrong. Whenever Ron and George had told her how Harry was doing, she had wanted to scream at them that she wasn't doing so well, either. They were her brothers and they _still_ couldn't see she didn't want to do this? She hated herself for that, too. It was a good thing she was so convincing; it kept them safe.

Ginny repulsed herself so much she was constantly seething on the inside. On any normal person, it would be a very bad thing, but in her case, the self-loathing was good, too. It had given her something to work on. She had trained harder, pushed herself further and had been rewarded for her efforts; the Harpies had won game after game and she was praised by everyone. But it wasn't good enough for her. She had almost everything she had ever dreamed of and more, but she would have given it all away in the blink of an eye if she could just get Harry back. Suddenly Quidditch was unimportant. She was the only one who knew something bad was going on, and she should stop it.

It was very difficult, and it took her a long, long time to make any progress at all. It was a miracle she ever found out anything, so when she accidentally overheard Draco Malfoy of all people complaining about the mysterious threatening notes his mother had received, she almost wanted to cry out in joy. But when she had started digging, they had started sending her notes again. They had told her she didn't know what she was doing. They had told her she should stop before something happened. They had told her she should take a holiday somewhere far, far away. Recklessly, she hadn't listened.

Then they had contacted the Harpies' management and ordered to put Ginny Weasley to the reserves. Of course, Gwenog Jones flat out refused. She campaigned for private detectives, but it was no use, as Ginny had known it would be. Then the accidents had started, and Ginny had said she would step down before someone got seriously hurt. She had promised Gwenog she would deal with it and be back for next season.

And so Ginny had kept digging, but Draco Malfoy's words were the only clue she had, and a very vague clue, at that. She had already made up her mind to contact the Aurors soon if she didn't find out anything, and then Harry was attacked.

And now he knew everything. Now he loathed her as much as she loathed herself, now he knew how she had betrayed him, and when he got to his flat to retrieve her notes he would find the ones that mentioned her futile efforts to make things better. Then he would know how very useless she was. And he would know she hadn't told him the whole truth, after all – she had only remembered this after Harry had already left. He was going to hate her.

It hurt more than leaving him had, and it made her physically ill, but it still paled in comparison to how she felt about the latest note. Apparently Fidelius charms didn't affect owls. The neatly written note had reached her just fine even though she was supposed to be safe here.

_Dear Ms Weasley,_

_We're disappointed in you. Auror Potter turned up at his home and went straight to your correspondence. Did we not give you enough incentive to behave? Our instructions were explicit, and if you had followed them, no one would have had to suffer. Just so you know, the explosives were installed to Mr Potter's room after you moved out. Just in case._

_You have forty-eight hours to do as we first asked you to: take a walk in the Hyde Park or else Mrs Tonks will pay for you mistakes again, and her grandson will be next._

Ginny was sitting on her bed – well, technically, it wasn't hers; it was just the one she had decided she would sleep on – clutching the note. She knew that any moment now, Ron would be finished with his dinner and come here to lecture her once again on the bad decisions she had made. She would show him the note then. If Harry really had already been to his flat, there was very little she could do about the explosives the letter mentioned, so she didn't go to the kitchen to warn her brother or write a quick note for Harry. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that her feet didn't work properly.

In fact, nothing in her worked properly. Her thoughts were a little hazy, and her vision was slightly blurred. Her arms and legs refused to move when she told them to, but she wasn't trying very hard. All she could concentrate on was the one line in the note that said she would have to go to Hyde Park or Andromeda would die. It meant she would have to leave the house. Harry had only given her one order, only asked for one thing – she'd been told not to leave the house. She was safe in Grimmauld Place, and if she was safe neither Harry nor Ron, nor any other Auror, for that matter, would have to sacrifice themselves to protect her. But she would have to leave the protection of the house soon.

She had to leave Harry again. She had to consciously go against his wishes, his direct orders, to save Andromeda. Ginny wasn't stupid; she knew going where they wanted her to go quite probably meant they would get her. They would be waiting, because threatening others had worked before and it would work this time, too... And she would still go, because she had enough on her conscience. Perhaps she could buy some time for Andromeda. Perhaps she was dooming them both, but either way, she had to go, because if she didn't and Andromeda died, there would be no way to deal with the pain and the guilt anymore.

Ginny knew they were probably setting up another trap for Harry. She was the perfect bait – his ex-girlfriend, his best mate's sister, related to practically everyone Harry was close to. And after what had happened to Fred, after Harry had seen what it had done to the Weasleys, he would never let them go through that agony again. He would go after her if no one stopped him. And who would? Not Ron, or anyone else of her brothers, because no matter how much they loved Harry, they loved her, too. Hermione might try, but Harry wouldn't listen. Teddy was probably the only one who Harry would listen to, but he was just a little boy and wouldn't understand the seriousness of the situation.

Ginny herself was the only one she would be able to count on to stop him. And so, when she started searching for parchment, it wasn't to warn Harry about explosives. It was to say goodbye and to explain her actions once again.

x-x

_There was a knock on the door. Even in the haze his mind was in, it struck to Harry as slightly odd. Nobody ever knocked. Especially lately. The three people that visited him always just barged in, ignoring his protests completely. They didn't believe he was fine, and they seemed to fear he would harm himself if they left him alone for more than two hours._

_"Harry?" Funny. It wasn't Ron, Hermione or Andromeda. In fact, it sounded a little like George. "Are you here?" There were two sets of footsteps. So it wasn't just George._

_All these thoughts were more or less ignored; they just popped up in Harry's head. He stayed sitting on his sofa, staring at a nail on the otherwise blank wall. A framed picture of him and Ginny used to hang on that nail. Apparently she had taken it with her. That was odd, too. For a moment, Harry had thought she might have wanted something to remember him by. To remember their relationship. For that one fleeting moment, Harry had had hope that perhaps everything wasn't over. And then it hit him all over again that she had left and hadn't contacted him in five months; it really was all over now. Two visitors who had knocked on the door instead of barging right in seemed very unimportant compared to that._

_"Harry? Shit, mate, you look like hell." It barely registered with Harry that George sounded shocked. "When was the last time you spent some time alone with your lovely wife, Ron? I think you should go home. I'd really like to talk to Harry alone."_

_"Are you sure? He's been like that for a while. If it wasn't for the fact that he's clearly shaved and changed his clothes, I'd say he hasn't moved from that sofa since he got home from St Mungo's." Ron's obvious sadness and frustration were clearer than George's blatant shock._

_"You should really go home, Ron." Harry was almost surprised to hear himself speak. His croaky voice sounded unfamiliar even to himself. "I'm sure I'll survive the night. Seriously, if I haven't killed myself yet, why would I do it now? After all, you're the one who keeps telling me I can only go up from here."_

_"See, even Harry needs a change of babysitters every now and then. If it makes you feel better, I'll Floo you in case he decides to jump out the window," George said with a chuckle, but Harry wasn't sure he was joking. Neither was Ron. He said something to George so quietly Harry didn't hear, wished Harry goodnight and Disapparated. Harry just stared at the nail._

_"All right, Harry. Get up." George's tones had no amusement in them anymore. "Let's go for a walk. I really do want to talk to you, and if you keep staring at the bloody wall it will be all for nothing."_

_"That's a brilliant idea. Except for the fact that I can't walk," retorted Harry, finally looking at George. The sickened expression on the redhead's face amused him slightly, though it was in a very twisted way. "That's the beauty of patient confidentiality. The Healers can't tell you what's up with me, and because I tell you what I want, I can edit out a detail or two. So, the walk's out. But you can open the window if it'll make you feel better."_

_"You can't walk? So you're - what? Paralyzed? Permanently?" asked George, sounding choked as he sank to the sofa next to Harry. "Why the hell didn't you tell us?"_

_"It's not permanent. It's deliberate. There was some damage to my spine, and apparently I got lucky and my nerves stayed intact, but if I moved something I might wreck something, so they decided to paralyze me for a week. I take a potion to keep my legs from working. That's why I won't be going to work in two weeks, and I'll stay by my desk for the rest of the month, possibly longer."_

_"Bloody hell," muttered George. "You still didn't say why you didn't tell us."_

_"Ron, Hermione and Andromeda are bad enough as it is. I don't need a babysitter, and if they knew just how bad it is, I wouldn't get a moment of peace." George just stared at him incredulously._

_"Harry, you don't need a babysitter, you need a brain! Or a reality check, at the very least. If you just told us these things, we wouldn't need to worry so much! We're sometimes honestly afraid that you'll go off on your own and do something incredibly stupid that will get you killed. After your attempt to go through all the pubs in London weekly when we never knew where you were, you went to practically never leaving the Ministry and then you go alone to investigate _one_ lead and end up in the hospital. You see a trend here?" He was definitely angry, and Harry knew he deserved it. Hearing all of the stupid things he had done lately listed like that only enforced the self-loathing he had been wallowing in for the past few days._

_"And that one lead was at the Malfoy Manor, of all places! Do you have any idea how badly Andromeda freaked out when she got a Patronus from Narcissa that informed her you were in St Mungo's and it was really serious? She yelled at Ron for almost an hour straight for letting you go alone to the Malfoys' place. And when Malfoy Jr. came to see if you were still alive... Well, let's just say it wasn't a very comfortable situation."_

_"It wasn't their fault that I was hurt. Actually, it probably is because of them that I'm still alive. They got me to the hospital just in time. Even though Narcissa and Draco were more Voldemort's victims than anything, and Lucius is locked up, people harass the two of them. It wasn't the first time Draco's contacted me because someone's threatened them, and it probably won't be the last time, either, and Andromeda knows I'm always going to help. If I hadn't gone to check it out, I wouldn't have been hurt, but one of them could have been killed, and Andromeda knows that, too. And since it was the Chosen One," Harry snorted in disgust, "that was injured, there's going to be a very thorough investigation and the people who did it will get caught. No one would have been so eager to take the case just to help the Malfoys."_

_"You know you don't owe anything to them anymore, right? Even if Narcissa saved your life when she lied to Voldemort, she only did it to find her son, and you've certainly paid her back already." There was an odd look on George's face as he said this - almost like he was fighting hard to keep the disgust from his tones and expression. Too bad he was fighting a losing battle._

_"I know, but I can't just turn people down because we didn't get along years ago; I need to do my job. And even if no one else has got enough backbone to do what's right just because it's the Malfoys who need help, I'm not going to tell them to deal with it because they brought it on themselves. I think people's lives are more important than old rivalries, and I've told you before that it doesn't mean I'm forgiving anyone for supporting the people who killed your brother."_

_George didn't say anything to that, and Harry was afraid his words had hit below the belt. At least the subject had driven Ginny out of his mind._

_"And I've already had my reality check during the last few days. I know I need to get my act together; I'm sick of making you all think I'd actually do something to myself. I hate to see everyone I care about so depressed because of me. And I'm sick of living in the past, too. Let's face it; if she was coming back, she would have done it already, and I'm just acting really pathetic right now."_

_"I wouldn't call you pathetic. Honest. You lost someone you loved and it's always hard. Trust me, I know." Harry froze at George's words, because they reminded him of another conversation between the two of them. In fact, those weren't George's words at all - George was using Harry's own words. "Good, you remember. This is my intervention, even though it got a little off track for a second. During my personal dark ages, when you had finally had enough of me wasting my life, talking to you really helped. You told me just what I needed to hear, because coming from you, all that sentimental stuff sounded like it actually meant something. You never told me you knew how I felt. You never said I should just get a grip and go back to the way I lived life before Fred died because he'd want me to be happy. And it's my turn not to tell you those things."_

_"You know, if you wanted to _not _tell me things, you wouldn't have needed to come here at all. I wouldn't have heard the stuff that way, either," replied Harry, but the joke was half-hearted._

_"I'm serious, Harry. You should really try to see this the way you talked to me about. It's not really such a different thing. Fred died, but you lost Ginny, too," said George seriously. "And I think that in a sense, that's harder for you. Fred didn't leave us by choice, but Ginny deliberately left you. Knowing that she wanted to go has to hurt, too."_

_"It does sting a little, yeah," retorted Harry with a snort. In fact, it was one of the things that hurt the most. Going through every day without Ginny was difficult, even after all this time, but knowing he was going through life without her had been her choice..._

_"I have to ask you though, mate... If losing her hurts so much, why haven't you fought back? Don't tell Ron I said this, but I don't think she's doing so well, either. She's... different, and not in a good way. Makes me think something's not right here, aside from the obvious. Why haven't you gone to talk with her? If I could..." The look in George's eyes was wistful, and Harry knew he wasn't talking about girlfriends._

_"Like you said, it was her own choice to go. If she wanted to undo it, she could come back. I could go and ask her why she left, or beg her to come back to me, but since she chose to leave me like that, I don't think it would do much good. This isn't the same in that sense, George. And even if there was a way for you to still talk with Fred... Well, you know what I think of that." Every time George brought this subject up, Harry couldn't help thinking about the Resurrection Stone lying somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. Once upon a time, that stone had brought him immeasurable comfort, but for George..._

_"You wouldn't want me to," said George with a sigh. Harry nodded. "Are you ever going to tell me why?"_

_"Because Fred would still be dead when the conversation was over. Knowing that, could you ever stop talking to him? It wouldn't do any good for you." Harry hated this conversation from the bottom of his heart. He had never told George about the stone, knowing what his friend would ask of him and what he would have to tell him, but there was still the little part of him that protested... The part that said one little talk wouldn't really be so horrible... As usual, Harry ruthlessly stamped on that part and silenced it. "It would make it all even worse, because for a moment, he would be _right there_, with you, even speaking to you, and then he'd be gone again."_

_"Oh." George gulped. Harry had never shared that bitter thought that had always kept him from finding the bloody stone and telling George how to use it, but he wasn't in the mood for mollycoddling anymore. George would be able to handle it. "I know what you mean. It's like the dreams I have sometimes... I'm talking with him, only we're both older than we were when he was alive, and everything's normal again... Then I wake up, and it's always horrible to realise it was all happening inside my head. That it wasn't real."_

_This was the first time they had talked about this subject for so long, and so Harry had never heard about the dreams. And judging by the look on the redhead's face, Harry's reaction to George's choice of words left something to be desired. He laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh, by any means, or an amused one, but he laughed until there were tears in his eyes. George seemed offended._

_"I'm sorry," said Harry when he calmed down enough to talk normally. "Of course it's all happening in your head, but why on earth should that mean that it isn't real?"_

_George stared at him silently. After what seemed like an eternity, he blinked slowly._

_"Funny. I really thought you might turn into Dumbledore if I closed my eyes. Again. It's weird that that's still bothering me," he said, shaking his head slightly._

_"Yeah, well, you had reason to think like that this time. That's something he told me once." Harry thought it better to leave out that it was right after he had been hit with a Killing Curse. George was quiet for a long while._

_"You're right, but if you think that's any reason for you not to talk to Ginny... I think it would be good for you in the long run. You said it yourself; it's not the same thing. I know you're worried she'll still want to stay away, but at least you can find out why she left," he finally said. Harry was staring at the nail again. Would it really be a good thing? Or would he just be torturing himself, playing with the what if scenarios?_

_"You know, George," replied Harry, still staring at the spot on the wall where the photo used to be, "I don't think I want to know."_

x-x

Outside Ginny's room, Ron hesitated. He had had dinner to cool down before confronting his sister, but he still felt uncertain. He just didn't know what to say. He knew Harry would find the notes if Ginny had stored them in his flat, so he wasn't too concerned about that. He just wanted to talk to her like they used to - he wanted to have an open, honest conversation, but he didn't know how he could. He didn't know if he trusted her. And somehow, that felt like he was betraying both himself and his sister, for how could he not trust her?

Doing what she had done, sacrificing everything to save someone she loved, took some guts, and by leaving everything Ginny had proved she was nothing if not brave. Confessing to everything and leaving nothing out took some backbone, too, and despite being disgusted at the whole thing, Ron found he respected Ginny a lot more. He didn't think what she had done was right, but it hadn't been easy, either.

And she was his sister. If he couldn't trust his sister, who had been his best friend when they were younger, who could he trust?

With a deep sigh, Ron pushed the door open without knocking. He was a little surprised to see Ginny was just sealing an envelope. He was almost shocked when she turned to see who had entered the room and he realised she was crying.

"Hi, Ron." She hastily wiped her eyes at the back of her hand and smiled weakly at him while she stuffed the envelope to the pocket of her jeans. "I haven't figured out yet whether I want to apologise in person or just give him a letter."

"Oh. That's what the envelope's about?" Ginny nodded in response.

"Listen, Ron, you've got a deadline. I just received another note that said you have 48 hours to get to Andromeda before something bad happens. I don't know why they addressed it to me and not to Harry," she said quietly, not looking at him. Ron was surprised, to say the least. 48 hours? Just a time limit and nothing more? It didn't quite fit, but then again, maybe this was another game. Maybe they enjoyed making Harry and Ron desperate.

"Okay. Where is it? I'd like to read it, if you don't mind," he said, sitting down on the bed while Ginny still stood in the middle of the room. She just nodded towards a pile of ashes on the floor.

"It was obviously hexed. Burned my hands, too, when it ignited." She held up her palm to show a second-degree burn.

"Bloody hell, Ginny, why haven't you done anything to the burn? It's got to hurt!" Ron cried out, instinctively reaching for her hand to inspect it closer. It really did look painful.

"I was going to come to get you, actually, to tell you about the note and ask you to warn Harry. I didn't like the sound of the note, they made it seem like they were threatening him. I didn't want to send him a Patronus because he wouldn't have been the only one who heard it and I didn't know what to say… He wasn't supposed to be back by now, was he?" Ginny seemed very nervous, and it was getting Ron alarmed, too.

"No, he was supposed to go to St Mungo's first, to get some information about their patients. It's probably going to take a while. They don't hand out the files just like that," he replied slowly. "I should probably send him a Patronus, though. Just in case. To tell him we got another note and all. He'd like to know."

He was such an idiot – Harry was likely the last living target, and Ron had let him go alone. Granted, Harry had been absolutely furious when he had left and much in the need of some time to think, but Ron should have gone with him. Being with Ron hadn't protected Harry from these people before – the ugly wound that still hadn't healed had certainly proven it – but there was still power in numbers, right?

If Harry didn't respond in five minutes, Ron would go looking for him.

"So, what exactly did the note say?" he asked Ginny. There was no need just to sit around and wait for Harry's reply, he should find out as much as he could.

"Umm… They said they saw Harry going to get the notes addressed to me, and they said they'd warned me of it. There was something about explosives. And you've got forty-eight hours to trade me for Andromeda or they will take their frustration out on her. Oh, and they threatened to take Teddy next. Harry's going to love that one," said Ginny with a dark chuckle.

"_What_? Trade you for Andromeda? They actually want us to do that?" This was bad. This was very, very bad. Harry was definitely going to lose it when he heard – this was straight out of his worst nightmares. There was no way he would willingly give Ginny up, no matter how angry he was, but he would hate himself for the rest of his life if something happened to Andromeda because of it. At least Teddy would be safe in the Grimmauld Place.

Ginny didn't bother to say anything, she just sat on the bed and stared at the door, as if she wanted Harry to walk in and assure her that he was still alive.

"Don't worry, we're not going to do it. It would probably be the stupidest thing to do at this point. If they had you, there would be no way to keep Harry from coming after you. Normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, but it would be on their terms… Not to mention if something happened to you, he'd probably really off himself this time." Ginny was starting to look a little green now. Maybe telling her she would be safe wasn't such a brilliant idea, after all.

"And nothing's going to happen to Andromeda, either, all right? Just stop worrying. We'll all be fine. We actually know what we're doing now," Ron continued with a small smile. Ginny still looked like she would throw up any minute. "Right. I'll go get that potion for your hand."

x-x

_The Leaky Cauldron was crowded as usual, but still Harry had no trouble finding his "lunch date". She was sitting near the entrance to Diagon Alley and waved cheerfully at him when he looked her way._

"_Hello, Harry," she said with a smile when he approached the table. "I'm surprised you came here today. If Ron wasn't constantly assuring me that you really do work so much, I might think you've been avoiding me."_

"_Hi, Hermione. I'm sure the thought has crossed your mind, considering you've checked my alibi," he shot back as he sat down, grinning at her._

"_You seem to be in a good mood. There's a pleasant change," stated Hermione, clearly taken aback._

"_Wow. I've really been depressing lately, haven't I? You're not the first one who's visibly shocked to see me smiling."_

_It had been an eye-opening experience to walk through the Ministry with a small smile on his face when he got back from his medical leave. So many people had been simply stunned to see him like that that by lunch time half the people in his department were sure he was still taking some rather powerful painkillers, and the rest were trying to decide whether he had found a girlfriend or just lost his marbles for good. At least Ron had had fun with the rumours._

"_I wouldn't call you depressing; you've just had a hard time. But you certainly look different now. Ron's been insisting something's different, but I couldn't believe it, you were so down… What's got you in such a fine mood?" Hermione was clearly happy to see him resembling happy, and it was almost sickening to realise the difference between the smiling woman he saw now and the dispirited woman he'd seen through the last six months. George really had been right._

"_Well, I've been talking with George. Or rather he got sick of me acting like someone had died and decided to help me pull my head out of my arse. You know I really appreciate all that you've done for me lately, don't you? I don't know where I'd be without you and Ron." It was true; without his two best friends Harry really would have lost his mind by now._

_Hermione seemed touched; she reached out to grasp his hand and gave it a tight squeeze._

"_We're always going to be here for you, Harry. We couldn't even imagine our lives without you – seriously, we would probably bore to death if we ever had more than a few months of normalcy at a time," she said with a wink and a grin, but Harry could see she was blinking more often than usual to get rid of the tears in her eyes._

"_That's nice. Here I am, opening up to you about my feelings without you even threatening me at all, and you make a joke of it," he retorted with a laugh. "And you know as well as I do that your lives really would be extremely boring if I wasn't around to liven things up a bit."_

"_Yeah, you do make things interesting. What on earth would we do without those crazy fans of yours or Death Eaters trying to kill you when we're out in public with you?" asked Hermione, laughing too._

"_Hey, that's not fair! There hasn't been an incident like that in over a year!" Harry cried out in protest, but he was grinning widely, as well. "Honestly, though, I think I could live without that stuff."_

"_And that's why you make a living with actively seeking to place yourself in situations like that," Hermione shot back wryly. "I heard you got a promotion."_

"_I did. Apparently I'm so dedicated to my job that I really deserved it. I honestly need to get a life. Don't get me wrong – I love what I do, and there's nothing else I'd rather do with myself, but when people start praising me for practically never leaving the office… Well, that's a little disturbing," said Harry with a small shrug, even though he knew he wouldn't change his habits._

"_Well… You are there a lot. At least you have an office now," commented Hermione._

"_Yeah, that comes in handy," retorted Harry. Especially the sofa was useful when he didn't feel like going home, which was quite often. Ron didn't like it at all, but so far the redhead hadn't protested too much._

_It was nice, talking to Hermione like they used to talk. He had really missed it. It was almost enough to cover the feeling of the suffocating knot inside him, and he found he could smile and laugh and joke with her and actually look convincing while he did it._

_George was right; the pain wouldn't go away instantly. But he could pretend it had. Looking at Hermione's smiling face, Harry decided it was definitely worth it. Even if it hurt him more._

x-x

When Harry got back to Grimmauld Place, his head was swimming. The one little trip to his flat, the Ministry and then the hospital had changed quite a few things. First was that Ginny had still left something out; she hadn't mentioned her own private investigations. The notes told everything about that, so it only left one question – why hadn't Ginny said anything about it? She must have known they would find out sooner or later. Harry had also gathered from the last few notes that Ginny had only found out about Andromeda the day she had come asking for help, and he wondered why she hadn't defended herself earlier.

Then there was the letter that had been waiting for him on his desk at work – the one from Robards. Apparently, someone had complained again about the relationship between Harry and Ginny, only this time it had been one of her brothers. Unfortunately Robards wouldn't tell him which one, but Harry had his suspicions. That piece of news certainly hadn't brightened his day at all.

And there was his visit to St Mungo's. This was certainly shaping up to be one of the worst days in Harry's life; there really was nothing like hearing the love of your life has been stabbing you in the back, one of the men you once thought of as your family all but despises you, and the curse that almost cut you in half a while back is now rotting your insides and at the moment there's nothing anyone can do. Apparently Harry had less than a week to enjoy normal bodily functions. Possibly longer, if he could catch the person who had cast the curse, but even that was not certain.

So his only chance to live for longer than two weeks was to catch the lunatics sometime this week, before the pain got to be too much and he wouldn't be able to get out of bed anymore. That was a cheerful thought. The way it was going, he could start drafting his will already.

This hadn't helped the restlessness, hurt and the pure rage he had been feeling earlier, and when he had received Ron's message and heard all the underlying panic in his friend's voice, the whirlwind of negative emotions inside him had made him feel physically ill. There wasn't much information in the message, just a warning to be careful and to get back as soon as possible.

Before five minutes had passed, his warped imagination had created a million different scenarios of what could be waiting for him when he arrived to Grimmauld Place, and none of them were anything short of nightmarish. Fortunately, none of his guesses were correct judging by how calm George, who seemed to be on his way to the kitchen, was.

"Hey, Harry," George said cheerfully before he really looked at him. "Bloody Hell, mate, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Where's Ron?" Harry asked curtly, readjusting the bag full of patient files that he had on his shoulder. "He said there was a pressing matter we needed to talk about."

He knew he sounded stiff, probably rude and too formal, but he didn't know if there was anything he could do about it. In the state of mind he was in, he could start yelling or even crying if he let his emotions out of the tight box where he had locked them. It might make him sound more human, but considering he needed to get the job done, it probably wasn't a good idea.

"I think he's with Ginny in her room," George said, eyeing him speculatively. "Don't worry, Harry. You'll crack this soon. It's not going to go on forever."

"Yeah. Thanks," Harry replied over his shoulder on his way upstairs. George's prediction was more accurate than he dared to guess; it certainly wouldn't go on forever. Not for Harry, at least.

He ran up the stairs two at a time; he knew he was supposed to be taking it easy, and it didn't feel too good, but he ran up anyway. It was supposed to hurt if it was killing him, right? He knocked sharply on the door of the room he knew Ginny was staying in, and entered without waiting for a response.

Ginny was sitting on her bed, looking vastly relieved upon seeing him, and Ron had clearly been pacing the floor as he now stopped abruptly on his tracks to stare at him.

"Okay, what's going on?" asked Harry, closing the door behind him. He leaned on the wall, crossing his arms, staring at the siblings who both seemed to be waiting for the other to speak. "You both know we don't have time to waste, so one of you had better start talking."

"How did you know?" asked Ron, surprised. Harry could feel his frown getting deeper.

"Know what?" He was beyond irritated at this point, and Ron seemed to be catching up on his mood.

"That we haven't got much time. Ginny got another note, and now we've got a timeline. They want us to trade her for Andromeda in the next forty-eight hours," explained Ron hastily. "Well, forty-six now. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Can I see the note?" Was it just his imagination, or did Ginny slink away from him when he glanced at her?

"It was hexed to destroy itself," she said softly, holding up her left hand. It was bandaged, and even across the room smelled faintly of the burn-treating ointment.

"Are _you_ all right?" asked Harry, real concern rising above all else for the moment.

"I'm fine," Ginny assured him with a very faint smile. Harry couldn't help the wry smile that twitched up the corners of his mouth.

"That's good; I wouldn't want anyone else complaining about the shoddy work I'm doing," he commented sardonically. "I stopped by at the Ministry, and apparently an anonymous family member has complained about what I've been doing and about how I've been treating you. I'm only telling you this because I'd rather not have you find it out from anyone else, and also because I don't want you to say anything about it to anyone. Ron, that was an order from Robards, and Ginny, I'm just asking nicely. Try to behave. Was there anything else in the note?"

It was true; Robards had ordered him to tell Ron about the complaint and to tell him to keep calm, and Harry had come to the conclusion that just putting it bluntly was the best way to do it.

"Well, there was the usual do it or we hurt the hostage," replied Ron with a small shrug. "Did Robards say who filed the complaint?"

"I didn't even have to ask before he said he wouldn't tell me," said Harry, shaking his head slightly. "It doesn't really matter, because we'll get this over with in the next two days by the looks of it. I got the files from St Mungo's and the notes from my place, and we need to go through them. Ron, could you do me a favour and start with the files already?"

"Sure, mate, but, er – why?" Ron seemed very uncomfortable when he realised Harry had been staring at his sister the entire time he had been talking.

"I think I need to talk to Ginny first." This time she definitely flinched.

"All right," said Ron, talking very slowly, "I'll be in the library if you need me." The hidden warning was plain in his words; the library was in the floor above them, and if there were any alarming sounds, Ron would get to them in moments.

Harry didn't respond, just handed the bag to Ron, who passed him on his way out. When the door snapped shut, Harry relaxed his stance and schooled his features into a cool expression. Ginny sat up a little straighter when he moved. They were both still staring at each other and the tension in the room was palpable.

"Can I sit down?" asked Harry, and Ginny nodded curtly. She seemed to believe he could attack her any moment – at least she was acting as if she did. It was sad – Harry couldn't think of a better word – that she had the grounds to think that way. No matter how angry he had been with her the last time they spoke, he would never be able to hurt her. He didn't think he would be, anyway, and if he ever did do something to her, he would never forgive himself. He was sure of that. But how could she not know it? How could she think he would do something to her?

"I'm sorry," Ginny said quietly, looking down at the bed spread. "You must have read the notes by now. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Malfoy myself, I just couldn't say… It's really not something I'm particularly proud of."

"What isn't? That you tried to stop them? I would've been surprised, actually, if you hadn't done anything. Giving up just isn't like you at all," retorted Harry honestly. She snapped her head up to look at him so fast he was slightly startled.

"You're not angry?" she asked, astonished. Harry had to fight down the smile that threatened to break out, because the situation wasn't really amusing, but she just looked adorable, like a child that had been waiting for a scolding and been instantly forgiven.

"You wouldn't believe if I told you," he muttered, shaking his head. "But about you playing a detective? Why would I be? I'm a little disappointed that you didn't mention it, particularly because you know how important it is for us to know everything, but to be honest, I'm kind of impressed." And he was; it was amazing that she had been brave enough to try to stop it herself, and that she had found something out. There were still a lot of negative feelings, but there was a very small part of him that still managed to be impressed.

"Oh. I thought you might be disappointed that I didn't actually find out anything." Her words were so surprising to him that he actually laughed out loud.

"Ginny, Ron and I do this stuff for a living, and in case you haven't noticed, we haven't really found out anything they haven't told us, either. You can hardly blame yourself for not solving the whole thing in minutes!" Harry sighed. He realised this was why Ginny hadn't said anything when he was yelling at her earlier. She was feeling guilty.

"But I am curious. What has Malfoy got to do with this?" he asked when it became clear Ginny wasn't going to say anything. She shrugged.

"I was going to Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron one evening a while back when I heard him talking loudly with a friend of his. He was complaining about the weird letters he had received. I stayed there long enough to hear that they had been written on his father's handwriting, and they were all threats," she said. "That was all I had, and I didn't really get anywhere. Apparently I hit close to home, though, because they didn't like it at all. But I guess you saw that, too."

"They've been threatening Malfoy, too? And he didn't alert the Aurors? I'm going to throttle that…" Harry's mutterings died out as the wheels started turning in his head. Malfoy had always personally sought him out whenever he was in trouble; threats hadn't been an uncommon issue for him. But after the incident with the trap in their garden, Malfoy hadn't contacted him once. Until now, he had thought Ron might have scared him off; he had heard all about the argument the two had had.

And the trap in the Malfoys' garden was something these people would do. He could imagine their disappointment when one of the former Death Eaters but an Auror that got injured.

He quickly thought of the files that Ron was now starting to go through. They had less than two days to find the right patient, and that was if their theory was correct. Talking to Malfoy would help. The only problem was that ever since the incident that had landed Harry in St Mungo's, Ron and Draco Malfoy hadn't been on very good terms with each other. It had become even worse than it had been before.

"Harry? Where are you going?" He hadn't even realised he was standing up again before Ginny spoke. He glanced at her.

"I'm going to talk to Malfoy. Narrow down the options. Listen, don't tell Ron where I'm going. It's a long story, and I don't know how much of it you know, but it's important." Harry wondered if he was just becoming paranoid. "He doesn't need to be told. I know you haven't been completely honest with me, but prove to me that I can still trust you, all right? If anything happens, you'll know where I am."

Ginny stared at him, obviously trying to decide whether to do what he asked her to or not.

"I know Ron was ready to murder Malfoy when you got hurt, and he wasn't the only one. I also know that if I do this, and something happens to you, he's going to murder both _me_ and Malfoy. Unless I get to Malfoy first, in which case, he'll thank me first and then murder me." Harry laughed and shook his head at her half-hearted joke, and she groaned. "Fine, I won't tell him. But you'd better come back in one piece!"

Harry grinned and waved at her as he left the room. Maybe he'd live through this, after all, if Malfoy was ready to play nice.


	10. Chapter 10: Options

**Chapter 10 - Options**

The Malfoy Manor was the same as it had been the last time Harry had visited. He had always thought it had something to do with the Malfoys' pride; they may have lost their social station, but nobody could take away the splendour they had always lived in.

"What are you doing here?" Harry smiled at the greeting he got when Draco came to open the front door. It felt good to see he didn't have a House Elf to do that for him. The sadistic part of Harry that had never liked Malfoy, even if he had learned to understand him, certainly hadn't forgotten Dobby.

"You haven't come to see me in a while, and that really hurts, so I decided to see how you're doing." Harry used the light, conversational tones that always drove Ron up the wall. Perhaps it was petty and childish, but he was angry, and at the moment he had no better outlet than Malfoy. He wasn't allowed to take his frustration out on any of the Weasleys; as tempting as it sounded, being on speaking terms with them when this ended was more important.

"Considering I only come to visit when I'm in trouble, you should know silence means I'm fine. And I am," said Malfoy tersely. Harry could easily see that his words were far from the truth; his eyes were darting left and right as if he was waiting for someone to attack, he was paler than usual and there were purple bags under his eyes.

"You're an idiot if you think I'm going to believe that. Aren't you going to invite me in?" asked Harry, pushing past him to the hallway without waiting for a permission. "Are they watching your house?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Malfoy. He was still trying to see everything at the same time. Harry could already feel the wide grin spreading on his face. It was probably wrong to think of this as fun, but still...

"All right. You're under arrest." Malfoy's eyes finally locked on Harry's face. "I'm going to take you to the holding cells in the Ministry of Magic to wait until you can be interrogated."

"What?" It was almost sad to see Malfoy had no better response. The poor sod was honestly scared out of his mind.

"You heard me. Are you going to come willingly or will I have to take you by force?" Malfoy took one look at the expression on Harry's face and upon seeing the vindictive smile instantly followed him out the door.

x-x

"Did you have a point to this, or were you just incredibly bored?" asked Malfoy, now a little more relaxed. Unlike Harry had said earlier, he had brought Malfoy to his office, not the holding cells.

"I did. You as good as told me they're watching your house, too, so I brought you to a relatively spy-free place to talk," replied Harry casually with a shrug. Malfoy seemed apprehensive.

"To talk about what?" Harry smiled, but there was no real humour behind it.

"You're just full of curiosity today, aren't you? That's not good, because I want to get answers, not give them. See, I've started getting these rather interesting letters, and there have been quite a few rather interesting incidents related to them. I suppose you've heard of the Death Eaters escaping Azkaban? We found them stuffed in tin cans. I'd really like to catch whoever's doing all this, and I've heard you have a similar problem. First of all, I'd like to know where your mother is." He kept his voice low and his tones casual, and judging by Malfoy's reaction, it was more effective than going straight to more aggressive demands and threats.

"I don't know where she is," replied Malfoy after a while of thoughtful silence. "I might as well tell you; I know you well enough to say you're not going to let me go until I do. They took her. Remember the trap they set up in our garden? I haven't been allowed to contact authorities after that, and if they do anything to her because you decided to barge into my house, I swear, Potter, I'll..."

"Sorry to spoil your fun, but there's a line, and I'm afraid there won't be much left of me by the time it's your turn," said Harry, cutting him off. "And trust me, if they're threatening you, then soon there won't be anything left of you, either, if you don't help me out now. Have you kept the letters?"

"No, I haven't, but I more or less remember everything. They were just the same as everything else, at first. 'Die, you filthy Death Eater, die'," said Malfoy with a roll of his eyes. "Then, about three years ago, it changed. It was almost as if they thought of something better and started acting according to a plan."

"Wait - it changed three years ago? When did it start?" asked Harry, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"A few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. I didn't say anything to anyone at first because there was just so much of it, and like I said, these didn't stand out, other than the handwriting. But when it changed, I asked you to help, and you almost got killed. I was told not to alert the Aurors anymore. The letters kept coming. They didn't want anything, just kept telling me it would be my turn soon. Then, about two weeks ago, my mother disappeared. I got one last letter, telling me to stay home if I wanted to see her again, that they would come see me soon." There was one particularly interesting thing in Malfoy's words - the dates. The tone had changed about two years ago.

"You said they wanted you to die. Did they ever mention _how_?" asked Harry suddenly after a while of silence. Malfoy shrugged.

"Slowly and painfully. That wasn't too original, either. They didn't get into details," he said indifferently. Harry fell silent again.

The Cat, whoever it was, seemed very determined to hurt everyone. There were no pain free Killing Curses, just many different ways to slice a person up. Harry and Ron had already determined that that might be because of the werewolves; the Cat could be a victim, and maybe he wanted everyone involved to suffer like he had. But Malfoy's words suggested that the Cat wasn't the victim - rather, the Cat had known the person who had been injured.

About three years ago. The fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts had just come and gone, so if the Cat had decided to kill everyone almost three years ago, what had he been doing for the two years before that? _Slowly and painfully_. Two years certainly counted as slow.

And if you spent two years watching someone you loved slowly slipping away, you would have plenty of time to become bitter and vengeful. But how close to a person would you have to be to want to mutilate even the Healers? Harry had worked with the two men and knew they were easy to get along with, good and empathetic people. The Cat had to be someone very close to the patient. A parent, a sibling, or something more than just a friend, possibly.

"And you have no idea who they are?" asked Harry thoughtfully, just to make sure. Malfoy shook his head. Harry nodded. "I didn't think so. Thanks for your assistance. If you could follow me, I'll take you somewhere safe to wait out until this thing is over."

"Can't I go home?" The panic was obviously back; Malfoy's voice was about two octaves higher than usual. "What if they hurt my mother?"

"Draco, I can't let you go back to the manor. You're obviously a target, and if they've been watching your house, I simply am not allowed to take you there. It's kind of against the rules to throw witnesses to the sharks," replied Harry. "Let's go, I don't have a lot of time to waste."

x-x

_When he cracked his eyes open, the bright, white light blinded him, and he quickly squeezed them back shut. He was aching all over, as if he had fallen fifty feet from his broomstick again - only, there had obviously been no one to cushion the fall this time. It took him a moment to realise that he wasn't aching _all over_, after all. He couldn't feel anything below his waist._

_"Are you awake?" What the hell was Draco Malfoy doing there? He couldn't bring himself to actually say anything, he just groaned so Malfoy would know he had heard. "Finally! Your friend here almost murdered me when I told them you were in the hospital. Maybe now you can set them straight and tell everyone that it's not my fault you're here."_

_Harry groaned again. Now he remembered. Draco's plea for help. Going to the Malfoy Manor, checking the garden, the cursed patch of ground. He should have watched where he was going._

_"Not your fault? How is it not your fault? You asked him to come, you lured him in there - how can we tell you didn't set up the trap, too?" Oh, so Ron was in the room, as well. Carefully, Harry squinted his eyes open again. Ron and Draco were sitting on different sides of the bed, Ron to his right, Draco to his left, both with their arms crossed over their chests. They were glaring at each other as if they hoped the other would drop dead if they looked hard enough. Ron had a split lip and Draco had an impressive black eye forming, and Harry didn't even try to bite back the chuckle that escaped when he looked at them._

_"You actually got into a fistfight over me? I'm touched," he croaked. He was trying not to pay too much attention to his aches and pains, and Ron and Malfoy were perfect for drawing his attention away from himself._

_"Shut up, Harry, it's not funny," snapped Ron. "Do you know how worried we've all been? Why did you go all alone to the Malfoys' place? Have you completely lost your mind?"_

_"He wouldn't have been alone if you had done your job," Malfoy spat. "He's been there plenty of times before, and you've always been fully aware of it."_

_"So now you're blaming me?" asked Ron, sitting up straighter. He was obviously affronted._

_"Unlike some people, I'm not too keen on blaming the innocent," retorted Draco. Harry shook his head briefly before he found it wasn't such a good idea; every muscle in his body seemed to be protesting against it._

_"Cut it out, that doesn't help my headache in the slightest," he grumbled. His voice was raspy because his throat and mouth were so dry, but he couldn't bring himself to really care. "It wasn't his fault, Ron."_

_"If you're fit enough to start the whining already, I think I'm no longer needed here. I'm glad you lived," said Malfoy, swiftly getting to his feet. Harry knew that Malfoy was uncomfortable with visiting him in the hospital; he really must have been worried to brave even Ron to see for himself that Harry would be all right._

_"Thank you," said Harry, and it went without saying that he was grateful for more than just the small compliment he had just received. That was the relationship he had with Draco Malfoy; they could stand each other now, and both respected the other, but they had no deep conversations. The bigger part of their talks always consisted of reading between the lines, because they weren't too keen on talking any more than what they felt was absolutely necessary. Common courtesy and pleasantries had never had any place in their interactions. Even now, Malfoy just walked out without another word._

_After the blonde had left, Ron found his voice again._

_"Seriously, Harry, this isn't healthy anymore. I've tried talking to you about this before, but you always refuse to listen," he said, and Harry couldn't help noticing how tired his friend sounded. "Hermione and I can't even sleep at night because we keep wondering where you are and what you're doing, and we're always worried because lately, you haven't been acting at all like the Harry we used to know. It feels like you don't even care what happens to you anymore. I still trust you, I do, but it's just hard to stand aside and watch it all happen. If there's anything we can do to help, you have to tell us, because now you're just shutting us out. We can't do anything for you if you don't let us in."_

_"I'm not shutting you out," Harry insisted. "And I'm really sorry if I'm causing you any stress, but you have to know that I still know what I'm doing. I'm fine, Ron, honestly. It's not easy, but I'm getting better."_

_"I know, I know," replied Ron with a sigh. "You always say you know what you're doing. I suppose I ought to know that by now."_

x-x

"Where have you been?" Ron had been waiting for Harry by the door, and the moment he entered, the inquisition started.

"In the Ministry. Did you look at the files? We needed something more to go by to get to our guy before the deadline. I got us a timeframe," Harry replied calmly. Ginny was there, too; she was sitting on the stairs and cringed at the glares Ron kept throwing at her.

"You just went to the Ministry and it came to you?" Ron asked sarcastically. "I saw the notes, too."

"I asked Malfoy for his version. He was surprisingly useful," Harry retorted, keeping himself calm still. He knew Ron would get over his irritation soon. "He's in protective custody now. They've been threatening him, and they have Narcissa, so I thought it was necessary."

"What did he tell you?" asked Ron, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry took a closer look at his friend; Ron's ears were already red, and his stance showed he was worried as well as angry.

"That he's been getting the notes since the war ended, but they changed about three years ago. Ginny, is there anything, anything at all, that the date could mean to you? Can you recall anything from the time around the second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts that stands out?" Harry turned to Ginny, who was rapidly paling. He was glad she was sitting down; she looked about ready to faint.

"Yes, actually. Remember when you were hurt? I'm not sure, but I think it was maybe a week after the second anniversary? I remember I was visiting George to cheer him up when I got a message from Ron that said you were in St Mungo's," she said softly, shuddering. "I was sitting in the lobby, waiting for Ron to come to show me the way to your room, when an old lady just came talking to me. She said her granddaughter had been ill for a long time and had finally died that day. I saw the girl's parents there, too. I'll never forget the look on her father's face. He was obviously hurting _so much_... It was awful."

"Do you think he could be the one we're looking for?" Harry pressed. Ron was leaning forward towards his sister, excited now.

"I suppose," replied Ginny slowly. "I don't know why he'd drag me into this, though. Or you, aside from the obvious. I don't think I'd ever seen him before."

"Right. Well, we'll see if we can find the bloke from our files. Let's just line our search for a patient who died around that time, and then see what we've got. There shouldn't be too many of them," said Harry, now talking to Ron. The redhead nodded and started heading up the stairs.

"I'll be in the library again," he called over his shoulder. Harry made to follow him, but Ginny grabbed a hold of his arm when he was about to pass her.

"I told him you were in the Ministry when he asked. He was about to murder me for letting you go alone, and he's certainly not going to trust me anymore. Why did he act so strange? Ron's always been a bit overprotective, but you can take care of yourself, right?" she asked. Harry still found it odd that she seemed so worried about him; he had taught himself not to believe it when someone commented on it. Hearing it from Molly and George had almost driven him insane before, when he hadn't known why she had left him.

Somehow, it was even stranger that he found it weird.

"Yeah, of course I can. He just hasn't always believed it," he muttered. Ginny raised her eyebrows, aghast.

"Don't tell me you did anything to yourself," she pleaded, looking slightly ill. Harry shook his head.

"Of course not! I didn't survive Voldemort to kill myself. Ron just... You know he's never liked Malfoy, and I know he has his reasons, but whenever he'd refuse to help the Malfoys when our job asked for it, I called him childish and just did the bloody stuff on my own. So, this one time, the Malfoys had been receiving some really disturbing threats. Narcissa wanted to get stronger wards around their property because of it, and they needed to ask permission for some of the stuff. It's just routine to check the place to make sure no one's trying to keep the Aurors from finding out about illegal activities, so I went to check it out. Just routine, like I said," he said. "Only, the psychopaths had decided to start acting instead of just talking, and they'd trapped the entire garden. I got into one of those traps, and if Draco hadn't acted as quickly as he did, I'd probably be dead by now. I'm beginning to think that it could be related to this case."

Ginny definitely looked ill now; her face was clammy and had started to turn greenish.

"Ron wasn't exactly pleased. He was furious with me, too; he thought I had a death wish and convinced Andromeda that I was suicidal. When I got out of the hospital, they never left me alone for more than an hour at a time. It was disgusting to realise I had been so depressed that they all thought I would off myself given half the chance," Harry continued.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered. "I'm still not expecting it to change anything, but I'm honestly sorry for what I did to you."

"Yeah, me too," said Harry with a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head a little. "I really should get to work, and I can't do that if you keep holding on to my arm."

Despite his not-so-subtle hint, Ginny didn't let go. She just turned to look at his eyes.

"I meant it when I said that I only left something out of the first story. Everything else was true. I wasn't lying when I said I still love you. I'm not expecting that to change anything, either. I just... thought you should know," she said softly. Harry sighed.

"I meant what I said then, too." He couldn't quite bring himself to say the words. "It doesn't change anything. Just because I can't help it doesn't mean I like feeling that way, and it doesn't mean I'm not angry with you or that I trust you. I think that's good for you to know, too. Can you let go of me now?"

Reluctantly, Ginny freed his arm and he started climbing the stairs again.

"You're right, it is good to know," she said, talking to herself, but Harry heard her clearly anyway, and something in her voice made him stop. He knew those tones; they were the cool, determined tones she used when she was about to do something very reckless and very stupid. Hearing her use them now gave him an unpleasant sense of precognition.

"You know, I think you could give us a hand," he said slowly, following the gut instinct that told him he had better keep a close eye on her. "You already know what's going on, and there are a lot of files to go through in a short time."

Ginny seemed surprised. She got up slowly and started walking after him, but she didn't say anything.

"Listen, I'm trying. I don't know if you've noticed, but the last week hasn't been one of my best, and this would be difficult even under normal circumstances. But I'm trying to sort myself out," said Harry in low tones. "Just don't go and do something stupid because of me, okay?"

"I won't," Ginny promised with a deep sigh. It wasn't convincing at all, but there was no point in telling her that. He wasn't about to tell her that she wasn't as good a liar as she perhaps thought she was, because he had enough trouble trying to read her as it was.

They had reached the library, and Harry decided not to mention his bad feelings to Ron. It would be better to keep Ron out of it, whatever it was. He vowed to keep an eye on Ginny himself - he still cared about her, and no matter what he had just told her, he cared about what happened to her. He wasn't about to let her get hurt.

It was easy to see something wasn't right with them as Harry and Ginny entered the library, but Ron was too absorbed in the files to notice. He didn't even look up when they sat down opposite him; he just pushed a stack of files towards them. Harry was relieved that his friend wasn't paying more attention, because no matter how many jokes they made about Ron's poor skills of observation, one glance would have easily told him something was amiss.

"Have you found anything useful?" asked Harry, trying to focus on his job instead of worrying about Ginny. It wasn't working.

"Not yet," replied Ron, putting aside another file. "The dates don't match."

"What are we looking for, exactly?" asked Ginny hesitantly, reaching for the stack in the middle of the table.

"A patient that Jones and Pye treated who was either killed or released from the hospital three years ago. We're still not sure whether it's a relative or a victim that's doing this, so keep your eyes open," said Harry, starting to search, too.

"A werewolf's victim who was injured during the Battle of Hogwarts would fit our theory," added Ron. There was a short silence again, as they all concentrated on the files.

"And you're sure about the theory?" asked Ginny, obviously a little frustrated as she added another file to her growing pile of useless information. Both Aurors turned to look at her.

"Of course not, and that's why it's called a _theory_," retorted Harry. "But it's the best we've got, and we're running out of time, so enough of the questions."

Ginny knew these things. She knew that they could never be sure of anything when they were looking for suspects, especially when they had as little evidence as they did now; she had learned a lot about how the Aurors worked, because contrary to popular belief, Harry had been very dedicated to his job even before Ginny had left. It irritated Harry that she seemed to have forgotten so many basic things.

His annoyance continued to grow as he found out that sitting in the same position for longer than five minutes was getting painful; he hadn't had time to sit still during the past few days, so he didn't know if it was a sign of his deteriorating health or if it had been like that all along. After an hour and a half of his constant movement, Ron had had enough.

"Stop the bloody fidgeting, Harry! I can't concentrate," he snapped. The tense atmosphere seemed to be getting to everyone.

"Sorry," replied Harry with a sigh, and decided to just endure it. He lasted fifteen minutes until the pain got to be too much and he had to move once more. Ready to snap at him again, Ron looked up just in time to see the brief pained expression on Harry's face.

"Are you all right?" asked Ron, the anger giving way to concern; his eyes were troubled as he watched Harry's expression turn to calm and reassuring.

"I'm fine. My legs are just getting numb," replied Harry with a convincing smile. Ron shook his head and was about to get back to work, when Ginny suddenly let out a strangled yelp.

"I think I found something!" she explained quickly upon noticing the alarmed looks on the Aurors' faces. "I recognise this girl. Sarah Fenwick, she was in St. Mungo's for two years after the Battle of Hogwarts, and she died three years ago of an infection in several of her organs. It looks like it was a miracle she even made it to the hospital, and it's amazing she didn't die sooner... Even with magic, there's no hope of healing so severe injuries..."

Ginny's voice drifted out and she handed the file to Harry and Ron, who read it simultaneously. She was right, it was unbelievable the girl hadn't died sooner; she had been tortured out of her mind with the Cruciatus curse, she had had two cut arteries, more bones broken than intact, third degree burns, pieces of her intestines missing... The damage was so bad that the list of all her wounds took several pages. Harry shivered involuntarily as he read about the cause of death; her organs had failed one by one because of an infection that had been eating away at them, one that the Healers hadn't caught early enough. Somehow, the Cat had found a curse to imitate the infection, because what Harry was reading was exactly what his Healer had said was happening to him.

"I think this is it," he said quietly. "We can stop looking now." The similarities were much too big to be just coincidences.

"Okay. Ginny, you said you knew her?" It was a sign of Ron's trust in Harry when he neither questioned the decision nor asked how he knew, but just accepted his word for it.

"She was a Ravenclaw, in her fifth year during your sabbatical," Ginny said with the same bitter, wry smile she always wore when she reminisced that year. "Sarah was one of the first to join the DA when we started recruiting. She was incredibly excited; she told me she had had an uncle who had been involved with the Order of the Phoenix and killed during the first war, I don't know if that had anything to do with it. She had a lot of good ideas, and she was caught for some of them, but she always came back."

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I saw her when the bodies were collected, a little before I heard about Fred, Tonks and Lupin. I thought she was dead," she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. Harry, Ron and Ginny all needed a moment to collect themselves; it wasn't easy to think back to that day, and especially not to that hour. They sat in a brooding silence as they all pictured the scene.

Finally, Ginny cleared her throat.

"If I remember right, she was an only child," she said. This time, the silence was pensive rather that morose.

"So she was in St. Mungo's for two years, and eventually died because the Healers didn't spot the infection before it was too late. That would be a good incentive to target the Healers," Ron commented, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"Ginny recruited her to the DA, and if that's why this girl, Sarah, stayed to fight and was hurt, it's a plausible reason to drag Ginny into it," said Harry, already thinking ahead to what this meant.

"The Death Eaters are obvious, and you're a target because you're Harry Potter. You ended it, but not in time, or maybe you inspired her, and everyone knows you started the DA in the first place," continued Ron. Harry just nodded again.

"The injuries match with what was done to the Healers, and the infection fits, too," he muttered. This got Ron's attention.

"What? The Healers were cut up, the Death Eaters were hacked to pieces - who's infected?" he asked. Harry answered with a grim smile, and Ron caught the implications instantly. "_You_ are? That's why the cut won't heal?"

Both Ron and Ginny were staring at him with deep frowns and wide eyes.

"Yes, that's why. But mine was discovered early, so I should be fine. I even take a potion for it," he lied smoothly. He did have a Potion to treat it, that was true; it just did no good. There was no need to go over all the ugly details right now. Ron looked like he was about to ask more questions, but closed his mouth when Hermione rushed in to the library.

"Harry, you've got an owl. It won't give the letter to anyone but you," she said, a little out of breath. "How's the research going?"

"We've got a lead," announced Ron with a proud smile as Harry stood up to go to the kitchen. Hermione beamed at them.

"That's good to hear," she said. Harry had to agree with her; he no longer felt like he was banging his head to a wall. Finally making progress was definitely a relief. He told Ron that he would be right back, and turned to leave for the kitchen; Hermione followed him.

"How are you and Ginny? Anything new there?" she asked as soon as they were out of Ron and Ginny's hearing range. The corners of Harry's lips curled upwards slightly when he took in the difference in her tones now; she was much more worried about the progress in Harry and Ginny's relationship than she had been about the cat and mouse case. It was strangely comforting; it showed how much Hermione, too, trusted Harry and Ron.

"I haven't strangled her yet," joked Harry. It earned a snort from his friend. "I don't really know how it's going. There are too many things to work out at once, and the way we've been going at it so far hasn't really helped me process things."

"That's a diplomatic answer," said Hermione, and it was Harry's turn to chuckle. "Ron told me about... the thing that got you in trouble at work. I think he was worried about your mental health." Hermione glanced around, careful not to mention anything about Harry and Ginny having sex in a house that was full of Weasleys. Harry was grateful for it, even if it seemed a little paranoid.

"Yeah, I think I'm beginning to worry about my mental health, too. You knew all along that I would," he said with a sigh. "You know, it would be nice if you were wrong about something for once."

"I've been wrong about plenty of things," Hermione chided him. "Besides, I don't really think that your sanity has completely escaped you. Maybe I didn't give you enough credit at first - I'm really starting to believe that you two will be all right eventually. Even if you just keep fighting with each other, at least it's better than silence."

Harry tried to smile at her, because he couldn't think of anything to say to her. It almost felt like this would be the thing Hermione guessed wrong. He suddenly felt bad for her; she was missing so many pieces of the puzzle, because Ginny couldn't possibly have told the real story to her yet, and he knew how much Hermione liked having all the facts. He still hated excluding one of his best friends, even if it was just because he hadn't had the time to fill her in. He was sure Hermione would have loved to help in any way she could, especially now that she couldn't even go to work because it was too dangerous.

They arrived at the kitchen, where they found the Dursleys, Molly, Arthur, Charlie, and George gathered around the table. It looked like they had been having a cup of tea when the owl had interrupted. The owl in question had been sitting on top of the teapot, but the instant Harry entered the room, it got to its wings and flew to him. As soon as he had unfastened the letter, the owl flew out the still open window.

"I thought you said no one could get to this house? How did the owl get in?" Petunia asked, her voice somewhat shrill. Harry knew anyone else could answer the question, so he just concentrated on the scroll of parchment in his hand. A quick check showed that it wasn't jinxed, so he opened it.

"Fidelius Charms don't affect animals. Humans and Animagi, yes, but not animals, especially not owls. It would be inconvenient if you had to give up all contact with the outside world..." Hermione's voice faded away as Harry took in the contents of the letter.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_Come to the Southwest corner of the Hyde Park tomorrow night at half past nine. You will find a Portkey and further instructions there._

_The Portkey is scheduled to leave at 21:32, and if you take it, we will leave Ms Weasley alone and return Mrs Tonks to her grandson in full health. If the Portkey arrives to its destination without you, Mrs Tonks will be returned to her grandson in several pieces, and Ms Weasley will be treated similarly._

There was a piece of paper glued to the bottom of the letter; it was a map of Hyde Park, with a circle on the spot where Harry presumed the Portkey would be in.

It was infuriating. This was a chance for him to free Andromeda without having to sacrifice Ginny in the process, but it was clearly something far more sinister than that. Harry knew anything could be waiting for him at the other end of the Portkey should he choose to take it, and he had a feeling that it would not be pleasant, quick or painless. He knew even considering going to the park was insane. For all intents and purposes, it was a suicide he was contemplating, and there was nothing to guarantee that the Cat would even keep to his word.

It was also strange that first they had asked for Ginny, and given a deadline for her, and then they had sent this. It just didn't make sense for them to change their mind so quickly, unless Ginny was never meant to tell Harry about her note. That was something to think about.

Either way, Harry now had an option. Should something dramatic happen during the next twenty-five hours, he could take the Portkey and hope it would take him to the Cat instead of another trap. Of course, if he wanted to keep the option, he couldn't tell anyone about it; no one would let him go even if someone else's life depended on it, especially not Ron.

"Harry? Is everything all right?" Harry jumped when Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "You've gone awfully pale. It wasn't another of those notes, was it?"

"No, it was from Kingsley." The lie came almost automatically. He knew, even without careful consideration, that he needed to keep all avenues open. He had the Portkey now, and if he needed to use it, he could explain it all later. There was no need to alert anyone to keep an eye on him. "I had to take Malfoy into protective custody earlier, and there's a small problem with that. I may have to deal with it later."

"Oh. So nothing's wrong, then?" asked Hermione, still very concerned. Harry shook his head and gave her a small, reassuring smile.

"Well, at least there's nothing new to worry about," he told her. "I should get back to work. Now that we've got a lead, I want to get something done."

He nodded once to the others to acknowledge them as he exited the room, stuffing the letter to the pocket of his robes. He shook his head at the side of him that was protesting against the lie he had just told; it was the best thing to do at the moment, because he really needed to have a trick up his sleeve if the situation called for it. The fact that his opponents had given him that trick really made no difference in his mind; there was a possibility that it would work in his favour if he absolutely had to use it.

He had to admit to himself that he could no longer be so hard on Ginny for keeping things from him; he could understand it. To be honest, he had understood her motives the whole time, he just hadn't wanted to see it that way. Looking at it subjectively as the victim of a conspiracy had been too easy. Now the reality was getting too clear to avoid; it was such a tangled web of schemes and deceit that right and wrong had become muddled, and there was simply no way that any black and white definition of morals could hold.

As Harry left with Ron to the Ministry to look up the Fenwick family, he couldn't help thinking that no matter how it ended, it would be a miracle if Ron's faith and trust in him remained as strong as they were now.


	11. Chapter 11: Choices

**Chapter 11 - Choices**

The bedroom Harry always used when he stayed the night in Grimmauld Place, Sirius's old room, was dark and quiet when he entered it. It was past midnight, and Harry and Ron had just returned from the Ministry. Both Aurors were dead on their feet and looking forward to a few hours of uninterrupted sleep; they knew they needed all the rest they could get, because the next few days were going to be very demanding.

Harry lit up his wand with a dim _Lumos_, and was surprised to see not only Teddy but Ginny, too, both of them fast asleep. Teddy was in his pyjamas, tucked into a cot Kreacher had brought up, and his hair was a raven mess just like Harry's. Ginny was sprawled on Harry's bed, both of her feet still firmly on the floor. She was wearing the same clothes she had had on when Harry had seen her earlier, and it appeared she had just been sitting with Teddy when she had fallen asleep. Harry noticed she was clutching a book of wizarding bedtime stories in her right hand; apparently, she had been reading to Teddy.

Harry walked to her, careful not to make a sound so he wouldn't disturb Teddy, and gently grasped her shoulder. Startled, Ginny sat up the second she woke up, and only Harry's fast reflexes kept their heads from colliding.

"You're in my bed," said Harry quietly, trying to keep a smile from forming on his face; he was fighting a losing battle. Ginny wasn't offended by the grin - she just grinned right back at him, even though there was a slight, embarrassed blush spreading on her cheeks.

"Sorry. I must've fallen asleep. I was reading to Teddy, he wanted to wait until you got back before going to sleep," she replied in a whisper, fighting back a yawn. Harry sat down next to her, feeling a sudden pang of guilt. Even though Teddy got along well with all of the Weasleys, he still saw Harry much more frequently than any of them, and Harry had practically abandoned his godson during the past few days. And now, without Andromeda or even fake-Andromeda around, Teddy must have missed him.

"And you offered to sacrifice your beauty sleep to keep him company? That was very noble of you," commented Harry lightly, still keeping his voice low. He tried not to let his sudden unease show. "Of course, you're the only one in the house who doesn't need beauty sleep."

This earned a quiet giggle from Ginny.

"I think you just complimented me by insulting my family, but I'm too tired to mind, so thank you," she replied. "What time is it? You look awfully tired."

"Thanks," retorted Harry with a snort. "It's half past one in the morning, but it feels like I haven't slept in years. It's been a long day."

"Did you find out anything useful?" asked Ginny, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Harry nodded.

"Loads. Sarah Fenwick's father really had a brother who was in the Order. I think Moody actually mentioned him once or twice. Benjy Fenwick was the bloke who was found in pieces. And you remembered right, Sarah was an only child. Her mother killed herself only days after Sarah died, so the father is our prime suspect now," he told her quietly. "We have a team of Aurors and other MLE personnel trying to locate him even now, but so far, we've found nothing. Ron and I will get back to helping them in a few hours."

Ginny was silent for a moment as she processed the information.

"Yeah, I can definitely see how Sarah's father could have just snapped. I mean, I don't support taking it out on innocent bystanders, but..." She let her voice fade out and just shook her head slightly.

"I know. It's hard even trying to imagine your whole world suddenly getting destroyed so violently," agreed Harry. "And now he has the entire MLE after him. It's his fault, but still... I just hope we can catch him on time."

"You don't think you can?" asked Ginny sharply, sitting up straighter.

"It depends. His hiding place could be warded or under an illegal Fidelius, or it could be otherwise protected. Remember the Azkaban breakout? He used Dementors," said Harry quietly. "We still don't know where he got them or how he got them to follow his orders."

After the latest note, Harry had paid a lot of attention to time and how fast it was passing. He had noticed the same phenomenon before: every time it seemed his heartbeats were numbered, he was painfully aware of each one. Now that the time was running out, he found himself constantly counting the hours and minutes to 21:32. There was so much to do and so little time to do it that it felt hopeless.

"As an answer to my question, that was more of a no, wasn't it?" asked Ginny, now slumping down, disappointed.

"You really don't need to worry about that," Harry told her soothingly. "Nothing will happen to Andromeda, and we don't have to hand you over to ensure that." He had alternative options, after all.

Ginny gave him a bland smile in response.

"Honestly, I'm not worried about myself. However, I do know a pair of insanely reckless Aurors, and I'm afraid they will get hurt," she said, trying to turn her concern into a joke.

"Insanely reckless? I'm insulted," replied Harry, perfectly content to keep things light.

"Well, it wasn't meant to be a compliment," retorted Ginny with a snort.

"You have absolutely no faith in us," commented Harry, trying to keep back a laugh and failing miserably.

"No, Harry, I know you're brilliant Aurors, and I've had unwavering faith in your abilities since I was eleven," said Ginny, now completely serious. "No matter what, I've always been your biggest fan. It's just that I've been there, after all of your adventures, waiting in the hospital to hear if it was just a scare or if I lost you. And each time your stories got more frightening... I know that you're a professional, and that you can handle it, but I still worry. And it's twice as bad because you've got my brother with you wherever you go."

Harry was quiet for a moment. He understood Ginny, but he wanted to say more than just "I know what you mean". This conversation was beginning to feel more meaningful than just chitchat to him; the atmosphere had changed dramatically, and Harry almost felt like he should tell her he had forgiven her because sometime during the night, he had. It was strange how a visible end to your life could clear your head. She had left him to protect him, and he was planning on doing the same, except in a slightly more permanent fashion. Not forgiving her would be incredibly hypocritical.

Finally finding the right words, he looked up to find her staring at him with her worry and love for him shining in her eyes. He had to smile at this notion; he was starting to sound like a corny poet again.

"Remember your third game with the Harpies?" he asked, still smiling faintly. Ginny nodded, both in acknowledgement to his point and as an answer to his question.

"That was the first game I got injured in," she said softly, and it was Harry's turn to nod.

"I know my job isn't the safest, but at least you've never had to stand aside and watch me getting hurt. I swear my heart stopped when you fell off your broom during the game. It was even worse because there was absolutely nothing I could do to help you, you were too far away," he said quietly, clearing his throat afterwards to dislodge the lump that had formed there.

"Yeah. After that, I think you panicked worse than my mother did every time I got even a scratch," retorted Ginny with a far-away look in her eyes.

"Your brothers noticed it, too. For a while I thought I'd never hear the end of it," said Harry with a small sigh and a roll of his eyes. Ginny smiled at him again.

"I bet they were pleased to see that you cared so much. I know I was. Even Mum thought you were incredibly cute when you got all concerned and overprotective," she commented.

"Your mother thinks I'm cute?" asked Harry, feigning shock to steer the conversation away from the more serious topics. It was easier to just ignore the timelines that were fast approaching and all that it meant when he was bantering with Ginny; he was actually feeling light-hearted for the first time in months.

"Why, of course she does," replied Ginny with a quiet giggle and a wink. "You only need to ask and she'll ditch Dad to run away with you. Every witch I have ever met would. After all the years you've spent in the spotlight as a national hero, it shouldn't come as a shock to you."

"Yeah, I've heard that before. I still claim to have no idea of what you're talking about," said Harry. Ginny's smile widened, and she moved a little closer so she could lean her head on his shoulder.

"I think I've missed this the most," she said with a wistful sigh. "I mean, I missed everything about you, but the conversations and just... being with you... I really missed this."

"Me too," said Harry, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Am I a terrible person because I want to find our bloke more so I can show him what I think of him taking you away from me for two years than I want to find him for all the other crimes he's committed? Other than taking Andromeda, of course."

"I think it just makes you human, actually. I know I wish I could tear him apart because he took you away. It bothers me more that you refer to him as 'our bloke'. It sounds like an endearment," answered Ginny with a faked shudder.

"Don't worry, I don't think of him in endearing terms," Harry shot back, ignoring the stabbing feeling of intense discomfort that Ginny's words evoked. _Because he took you away_. The way she said it bothered him; she made it sound so final, so absolute. For a moment Harry wondered whether she knew about the latest note, but he quickly shook the doubt away. Of course she couldn't know. But there was that other suspicion of the ill-fitting puzzle pieces... Maybe he had been onto something. Unaware of his musings, Ginny yawned.

"I'm sorry," she said instantly, "I should probably get to my own bed and let you sleep. You said you were tired."

Harry shrugged; he already had a different solution that seemed a lot better to him.

"I could sleep even if you stayed here," he said casually. Ginny was too surprised to give him an answer to his thinly veiled invitation instantly; she just stared at him until she finally came up with a response.

"You aren't going to sleep with your shoes on, are you?"

x-x

_Even though the setting sun looked beautiful, Harry couldn't keep watching it. He almost felt like he couldn't watch it _because_ it was beautiful. He had known it would be; he had picked the time and place specifically so that the sunset could be seen. It was about the only thing that hadn't changed in his plans for this day. The food wasn't what it was supposed to be, and he wasn't with the person he was supposed to be with, but he was where he had planned to be at this moment. Perhaps it counted for something._

_"Are you ever going to tell me why you wanted us to come here today?" Andromeda's voice shook him out of his brooding. Harry glanced at her; she was sitting next to him on the blanket, looking as elegant as always even after hours of playing with her two-year-old grandson. Teddy, said grandson, was currently sprawled on Harry's lap in a position that looked highly uncomfortable but couldn't have been, because he was also sound asleep._

_"Ah... It's nothing. I'd really rather not talk about it," replied Harry evasively. Andromeda laughed at his words._

_"Well, it has to be something if it can be talked about," she retorted. "I know you're a bright man, Harry. If you want to give me excuses, tell me something more original. And if you don't want to talk about it, at least stop looking like you're contemplating jumping off the cliff. It worries me."_

_"I'm not going to jump off the cliff, don't worry," said Harry with a small grin. "I was just thinking about what I was supposed to do today."_

_"And what is that? Laundry?" asked Andromeda dryly. Harry could hear the curiosity in her tones; he knew it had been bothering her that she couldn't ask Harry what was up with him while Teddy was awake. She never talked about Harry's possible problems in front of Teddy - she insisted it was better for everyone involved, and Harry didn't see a reason to argue._

_"No. I was going to propose today," he said with a casual shrug, downplaying the importance on purpose to keep down the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him. He was sick of it, and he was determined to ignore the constricting feeling in his throat._

_"I'm sorry," said Andromeda quietly. "Have you talked to her yet?"_

_"No." Harry's response, terse and short, was the same it always was._

_"It's been two months. Are you ever going to?" Andromeda kept up the gentle questions despite Harry's harshness and obvious discomfort._

_"I don't think I will, no," replied Harry with another shrug. "I don't know. I think I've had enough of it for a while."_

_"It? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," said Andromeda. If her tones had been anything but as comforting and soft as they were, Harry would have snapped at her and finished the conversation. As it was, she was the only one he could talk to who wasn't biased, and he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't judge or speak of it to anyone else._

_"Of being depressed by everything that I think about because everything reminds me of her, of not sleeping at night because I don't know what drove her away, of all this. I can't help missing her, and I'm angry with myself because I don't want to miss her anymore. It's not like she's dead. She just left me. Why can't I just get over it? I want to go back to the normal state of things." Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair in frustration._

_"Harry, dear boy, you were with her for so long that she is the normal state of things for you. Of course you're not going to get over it so quickly," Andromeda told him. "Your friends mean well when they say you need to go out more and try to act more cheerful, and there may be some truth to that, but you need to take things at your own pace. No one can tell you when you're supposed to feel all right. You will, eventually, but while you can't just wallow in your misery, you shouldn't ignore it, either. It will only catch up with you later, in one form or another, and it will be worse then."_

_"I know. I just get frustrated," said Harry with an apologetic smile. "I promise I'll figure it out soon, so you won't have to listen to my whinging anymore."_

_"Do you have to? I'm going to miss our chats." Andromeda's tones were teasing, but her smile was sad, and Harry turned back to look at the sunset. He couldn't look at Andromeda anymore, either._

x-x

Even as Harry softly knocked on the bedroom door, he hoped Ron had already left for breakfast. He wanted to have this conversation alone with his other best friend. When Hermione's voice told him to enter and he opened the door to see only her, he almost sighed in relief. Ron had left.

"Harry! This is surprising," she commented wryly, and Harry gave her his most charming crooked grin in response.

"Surprising? I wanted to drop by to wish my best friend good morning. What's shocking about that?" he asked, even though he knew very well what Hermione was referring to.

"The fact that you haven't exactly gone out of your way to acknowledge said supposedly-best friend's existence during the past few days," replied Hermione, just as Harry had expected. "Other than the brief conversation on the stairs yesterday, I don't think you've given me as much as a 'hello' since we came to Grimmauld Place."

"I'm sorry; I do feel bad about that. I haven't paid enough attention to anyone. Teddy already gave me his version of this speech earlier, and I'm sure the Dursleys are feeling overwhelmed with just Weasleys around," said Harry with a sigh. "I just can't be everywhere at once. I'm sure you understand."

"I know. I've noticed it hasn't been easy for you," said Hermione with a nod. "I'm just going stir-crazy and I wish I had something to do. With you and Ron either gone or having private conversations with Ginny all day, there isn't much I can do to help."

"Well, I've got just the thing for you," said Harry, grinning again. This time it took a little effort to get the grin in its proper place.

"I knew you only wanted something from me," retorted Hermione, but she, too, was smiling. "Well, go ahead. What do you need?"

"Can you keep an eye on Ginny for me, please?" asked Harry, making sure he looked and sounded as serious as he was. Hermione seemed to understand the importance.

"Of course. Is there something in particular that I need to look out for?" Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, and Harry could practically hear the wheels in her head turning.

"I don't know if Ron told you, but we got a note yesterday. It said we need to trade Ginny for Andromeda in the next forty-eight hours - well, about half of that has already ticked by. The note was addressed to Ginny, and neither Ron nor I got to read it because it destroyed itself. It seems a little suspicious, and even though there's plenty of time still left until the deadline, I would appreciate it if you made sure she doesn't try to sneak out or anything," he told her. "I can't exactly tie her up and lock her in the attic, and they really need me in the Ministry, so I can't look after her myself."

"You think she's lying about the note?" asked Hermione sharply. Harry shrugged.

"If they told her to deliver herself, she wouldn't technically be lying, other than by omission, perhaps," he said. Hermione didn't look too pleased by his answer.

"Why would she tell you about it if she was planning on going? She's not an idiot, she knows you'd stop her," she commented, going with the most logical argument as always. Harry, too, had wondered about this, and he had reached only one conclusion.

"She's been lying a lot because she's had to. I think she may feel guilty, or she could be trying to give us time to brace ourselves for it," he replied. "I don't know; I can't read her mind. I just feel like something doesn't add up, and I'd really rather be safe than sorry."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I'll do my best, and I'm not above locking her in the attic, either," she quipped to ease his worries. It didn't work; Harry was already staring at his watch, counting the hours again. Less than fourteen for him.

x-x

The air in the conference room was stifling to Harry, but it looked like he was the only one who was suffering; no one else seemed to be struggling to focus on the conversation, and no one else was hunched over in pain, either. He wasn't the only one who had noticed this, and especially Robards and Ron kept shooting him questioning glances.

Something was wrong with him. The bloody infection was getting so painful he was finding it hard to breathe, much less sit up straight and pretend everything was fine. Ron looked at him again, and he tried to pull himself together and sit up properly. It hurt and he just slumped back down. He had to wonder if it was really going to take two weeks for him to succumb to it. Perhaps the Healer had meant two weeks from the moment he was struck with the curse? That would mean that a week had flown by without him even realising it.

Harry's agony went unnoticed by most of the people listening to the presentation of the Auror who had been leading the group that had looked into the properties Joseph Fenwick owned. Everything else had turned out to be in order, except for a house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade that the Aurors hadn't been able to find. It was registered to Fenwick, and all the signs pointed towards an illegal Fidelius Charm, which was what the Auror in the front of the room was about to announce. The implications were clear; it was probably the house where Andromeda and Narcissa were being held.

"Potter, do we need to send you to a Healer?" Robards' gruff voice interrupted the man in the front of the room; obviously Harry's troubles hadn't escaped his attention. Harry, Ron and Robards were sitting in the back, but all heads turned to them after the loud comment.

"No, thank you, sir," replied Harry politely, gritting his teeth as he forced himself into a fully upright position. He didn't need to start a rumour mill about his condition right now.

"I would believe you if your face hadn't turned grey. Do you want to take a break?" asked Robards, studying Harry's face with such a deep concentration that it made Harry very uncomfortable.

"No, thank you, sir," repeated Harry, this time less in tones that weren't quite so polite, and Robards turned towards the Auror who had been speaking earlier, apologised for the interruption and asked him to go on.

The meeting ended with Robards handing out new tasks for all the Aurors and other MLE personnel who were present; some Unspeakables were there, as well; Harry guessed they were involved because of the Fidelius. Harry and Ron didn't get any instructions before the other people had filed out of the room.

"Potter, you were supposed to be on bed rest when you took this case, weren't you?" asked Robards, closing the door. Harry only needed to nod in response.

"I've found that when the Healers tell you that you need to do something, you had better do it. I understand this particular case is important to you, but I don't think you can really help at this point," the Head of the Auror Officecontinued, and despite the unease he felt about it, Harry couldn't deny that his boss had a point. There wasn't much he could do in the office right now; he couldn't even sit up straight, and if he continued as he had been, he would surely keel over.

"I agree. I can't take part in a raid, and to be honest, I don't think I'm of any use here," he confessed with a disappointed sigh. "But I do have a few suggestions. First of all, the notes all referred to more than one person. I can understand how Fenwick might have snapped, but I don't think he's developed a personality disorder. Plus, even if he had three years to do it, all the stalking and planning must have been a hell of a job for only one person. Someone should look into it and see if he's just trying to get us confused or if he has an accomplice; the person that Ginny and I met in the Leaky Cauldron talked of a friend. And we really need to find out where the Dementors came from. It would be a nasty surprise if they struck again, and I don't think we need that anymore."

"Those are good points, and I'll have to see if we can spare anyone to do more research. We need to find out how he got to Azkaban," said Robards with a nod. "But you need to get to a Healer, or at least lay down. Weasley, can you see that Potter makes it home, and then come back to help?"

"Yes, sir," said Ron instantly, helping Harry up.

"Listen, I know it's not exactly protocol, but can you keep me informed of what's going on?" asked Harry. He needed to know what was happening; how else was he supposed to know whether to take the Portkey or not? If his colleagues weren't making enough progress, Harry would have to go to save Andromeda by himself. At this point, he knew it practically meant that if he didn't lose his life, he would lose his job for not sharing something as important as the knowledge of the Portkey, but it didn't matter that much. If it helped...

"Weasley will be in touch if something happens," promised Robards.

x-x

_"You know, sending Molly Weasley flowers may not have been the best of ideas," Harry called out as he entered Andromeda's house. He found Andromeda in the living room, with her grandson asleep in her arms._

_"Hello to you, too, Harry," said Andromeda wryly. "Why do you say that?"_

_"She was hysterical enough as it was," replied Harry. The Battle of Hogwarts had taken place two weeks ago, and the wizarding world was still dealing with the aftermath. The Weasley household was a mess; Fred's death had taken its toll on everyone, especially on Molly. She was also struggling with having killed Bellatrix Lestrange; it wasn't that she was sad that the woman was dead, but she didn't like taking lives, and she worried about the example she was setting her children._

_"I only wanted her to know that I know what she's going through, Harry. I lost a child, as well," Andromeda reminded him softly. Harry sat down next to her on the sofa without an invitation._

_"You wrote her a note that thanked her for killing your sister," commented Harry. Andromeda shrugged as much as she was able to._

_"I heard she was having a hard time coming to terms with it. She shouldn't. Someone had to tell her that," she said. Harry sighed. Andromeda and Molly had very different ways of coping with their sorrow; while Molly showed her feelings openly, Andromeda didn't let her pain show. Molly cried and clung to her family, Andromeda acted as if things were normal, took care of Teddy and made sure Harry dropped by frequently so that her grandson would get used to male presence, as well. It was still easy to see that she was hurting. Tonks' room had been turned into a shrine; Andromeda wouldn't let anyone touch anything in there, the graves of her family members always had fresh flowers decorating them, and Andromeda wouldn't talk about her husband or daughter to avoid breaking down in front of other people._

_Harry had to wonder if their upbringing had anything to do with the differences in the women's behaviour._

_"I hope you don't think no one has said anything about it. None of us was particularly fond of Bellatrix," he retorted. "You haven't visited the Burrow."_

_"I haven't," said Andromeda with a nod. "I've been busy taking care of Teddy. Children can be a handful for old women like me."_

_"Mrs Tonks, you're not old. And you don't want to stay in your house for the rest of your life," said Harry with a small frown. He didn't really know how he was supposed to say what he wanted to say; he had no idea how Andromeda would take it. However, as far as he knew, he was the only one she had seen since her daughter and son-in-law's funeral, so he felt he needed to remind her._

_"I've left the house," Andromeda shot back indignantly. Harry sighed again._

_"I don't think the graveyard counts. You're having a hard time right now, and interacting with other people might help," he said, trying to keep his tones gentle. He was expecting a tongue-lashing or an order to get out; instead, he found Andromeda was on the verge of tears._

_"Have you been reading the Prophet? There are many angry people out there, going after the families of Death Eaters. I'm the sister of Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange, and Teddy's father was a werewolf. It doesn't matter to most people that Remus was on our side. I've already lost everything but Teddy, and I'm not going to endanger him by taking him out to public where anyone can attack him," she said with a fierce scowl, holding Teddy tighter to her chest. "And I'm not going to give anyone an opportunity to break into my house, either."_

_"Teddy's also Harry Potter's godson. The way things are now, that counts for something," replied Harry soothingly. "You know as well as I do that Bill Weasley is good with wards. If you asked, I bet he would gladly design something stronger for you so you wouldn't have to worry about anyone breaking in. And just so you know, if you decide to ever accept Molly's dinner invitations, there will be no one present who would even think of attacking Teddy."_

_Andromeda was quiet for a moment._

_"The first time you met me, you thought I was Bellatrix. We always looked very much alike. How can I go into the home of a family who's just lost a son to the Death Eaters, knowing that I will only remind them of her?" she asked quietly. Harry had to swallow down the lump that was forming in his throat._

_"I wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind when I first saw you, and you were in the shadows," he said. He knew it wasn't enough, but what was he supposed to say? He struggled to come up with something. "Sirius was related to them, too, and none of the Weasleys thought any worse of him for it. He had allegedly murdered a dozen people, and they welcomed him into the fold. They're fairly open-minded, and they all know you aren't like your sisters."_

_They fell silent again._

_"I think you ought to get going, Harry," said Andromeda finally, after the silence was getting to be too much for Harry to bear. Slightly disappointed but not surprised, Harry stood up to leave. He didn't really even know her, so he hadn't expected her to be grateful for his unwanted intervention._

_"All right, Mrs Tonks. Have a nice day," he said, already about to walk out when Andromeda's voice stopped him._

_"Tell Molly that if the invitation is still standing, Teddy and I will join you all for dinner on Friday. And for heaven's sake, stop calling me Mrs Tonks! It's Andromeda to you, dear," she said._

_Harry left the house with a wide grin on his face._

x-x

Harry had hoped that he could get back to Grimmauld Place and flee to his room without attracting too much attention. Ron had other ideas; when it became clear that Harry couldn't get up the stairs by himself, Ron called for George. The way he yelled, it was a miracle the Weasleys didn't all run to the hall with their wands drawn, so Harry wasn't surprised that George wasn't the only one who answered the call.

"Harry! What the hell happened to you?" Charlie was the most vocal of the group, while George, Arthur, Bill, Percy, Ginny and Hermione just stared in shock. They had all rushed up from the kitchen - the Aurors had probably interrupted their lunch - and they were still crowded in the doorway. Harry imagined that it must have been quite a sight; Ron was practically holding him up, and with the way he was feeling, he must have looked like death warmed up. His lips curled into an involuntary smile at the thought; he _was _death warmed up. Just a few more days and he'd be in St. Mungo's, waiting for the cool down.

"Nothing happened. I'm just not feeling too well," replied Harry, trying to tug his right arm away from Ron's shoulders. Ron wouldn't let go. Harry had to admit it was probably a good thing.

"Not feeling too well?" repeated Hermione faintly, taking in Harry's sickly appearance. "Is this from the injury? Did you take your Potions this morning?"

"Yeah, I took all my Potions," said Harry with a nod. He bit back a sigh of frustration at the looks on the others' faces. It didn't seem that they were going to let it go that easily, and he wondered what the hell he was supposed to tell them. If he claimed to have no idea of what had caused the pain that had to seem sudden to them, they would drag him to a Healer who would only repeat Harry's sentence. He didn't want to tell them the truth - he wasn't entirely sure why, it just didn't seem like a bright idea. Nothing they could do would help, anyway, so why stress them beforehand? If the worst should happen, they would deal with it then.

"Robards sent him home because he can't work like this. Could someone help him upstairs? I'd do it, but I need to get back to work. We're understaffed for things of this scale." Ron saved Harry from answering any questions immediately; from the small squeeze the redhead gave Harry's arm, Harry determined it was on purpose. "I think he just need to rest."

"Yeah, the Healers said this could happen if I didn't stay in bed," agreed Harry, careful not to say it too quickly. No one would find it very convincing if he made it look like he was just jumping on the opportunity to feed them something like that. He was, but they didn't need to know it.

"Right. You can't walk?" asked George, coming over to Harry's left side so Ron could let go. Harry tried to shrug.

"I suppose I could if I really wanted to. It just hurts a little," he said. George rolled his eyes.

"So that's a no. Suppose we can get you upstairs like this, or do we need to Levitate you?" Harry snorted at this comment.

"I've got a wound in my stomach, my wand arm hasn't been amputated. You're not going to Levitate me," he shot back, and George laughed. Ron rolled his eyes, while the rest of the group seemed to be a little lost.

"Just help him up the stairs, George, before we have to peel you off the carpet," he cracked. "I need to get to the Ministry before Robards starts wondering where I am. Harry, if you leave the house, I'm going to hunt you down and sedate you."

"That's a deal," quipped Harry, before turning serious. "Be careful, mate. There are still too many unknowns for my liking."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," said Ron. With a wave to his family, he was out the door.

"Well, what are you all staring at? Let's get the man upstairs," said George to the crowd gathered by the door of the kitchen. "And you heard him, keep the wands out of sight!"

x-x

Harry was woken up hours later, not by the pain in his abdomen that had dulled with enough painkillers, but by a commotion downstairs. A glance at his watch told him he had slept for over eight hours; it was now ten to nine in the evening. A little over half an hour, then. He had almost slept past the deadline. The voices downstairs were getting louder, and Harry recognized them as Hermione and Ron. Why would they be shouting? Even in the hazy state that was the result of a combination of painkillers and awakening from a deep slumber, Harry knew it couldn't be anything good.

"I don't know what happened, she was there one minute, looking at Harry's Potions, and then she was gone!" That was Hermione. Harry didn't have to think to know who she was talking about. Ginny had disappeared. The note was never meant for the Aurors, she had just given them fair warning. That was why she had been so tense when Harry had talked with her about the progress they were making. It wasn't because she had been just frustrated, it was because she had wanted to know if she had to play her ace. Apparently, Harry's deteriorating condition had made her somewhat desperate.

"How are we supposed to tell this to Harry? We're really going to have to sedate him, otherwise he's going to do something incredibly stupid..." Now that Harry was listening, Ron's voice was easy to hear even though he wasn't yelling anymore. If Ginny had done what he thought she had, Ron was absolutely right; Harry was going to do something so stupid that even if he lived through his stunt, his friends would kill him for sure.

He shook his head slightly. Had Fenwick planned all this? Had he known the curse would work so that Ginny would feel like Harry couldn't help anymore, and she would want to help out however she could? Harry had wondered why the man would bother with first injuring Harry fatally, and then setting up a trap like this. It hadn't made sense, but if it was what drove Ginny out... If Fenwick had had this in mind, Harry wanted to know how the hell the bastard had figured this would happen. Unless there was another letter, there was no way...

Harry pushed himself up. He could feel a twinge of pain, and knew that if he was around to see the time when the painkillers wore off, he would feel the full impact of that twinge later. Drawing from all the experience his Auror training provided, he slipped quietly out of his room and snuck the stairs down to Ginny's, while Ron and Hermione continued planning on how to break the news to him. Their voices carried up so clearly that Harry figured they were standing right by the door - which was, conveniently, the only exit. Unless the two moved out of the way, getting to the Portkey would be tricky.

As Harry had suspected, there was a neatly folded letter laid on Ginny's bed, and an already familiar note beside it. The letter was addressed to him, but the note was to Ginny. With a heavy heart, he took the note first. He tried to shut the right side of his brain out; he didn't want to think of how this would affect Ginny, himself, Teddy or any of the Weasleys. He wasn't sure his heart was even whole enough to be able to survive getting so completely shattered again.

_Dear Miss Weasley,_

_It is such a shame that the good die young, isn't it? And to think, Mr Potter would still survive if someone delivered the right spells and potions to the Healers. Unfortunately, as highly appreciated as they are, there is currently nothing they can do for your friend. They just don't know what the cure is._

_There's good news, too: there is a way for you to save Mr Potter. Do what we told you to do, and an envelope will be delivered to Auror Ronald Weasley's office with instructions. You have an hour._

Harry sighed. If Ron saw the note, there was no way he would let Harry go to the Portkey. Even without the letter, the chances were minimal. Right now, Harry didn't feel like he had a lot of options. He reached for the letter next.

_Harry,_

_You're still a lousy liar. I saw right through you when you told Ron you were going to be fine. I can't just sit aside and watch._

_I'm sorry. Catch him for me, please._

_Love, Ginny._

It was short and to the point. Despite the tears forming in his eyes, Harry had to smile. Of course she was going to be blunt. She wasn't one to write long, poetic goodbyes. It was so much like her that he couldn't keep the chuckle from escaping. He wasn't laughing because he found the situation amusing; he didn't know what else to do. He needed to get to the damn Portkey. Now. Perhaps he should dig up his old Invisibility Cloak.

Even as Harry was planning on his escape, he was trying to figure out how to tell Ron. There would have to be one more letter. Harry knew going to the Portkey was a foolish, irresponsible thing to do, and going on a mission like that with no chance of getting back-up later was just plain idiotic. If there was any chance that he could get Andromeda, Narcissa, Ginny and himself out alive, or even a few of them, he was going to do everything to make sure that happened. Ron would soon try to find him to tell him about Ginny's disappearance, and then all the letters would be found.

He put the parchments Ginny had left for him back on the bed, and dug out the last one he had received. After carefully ripping off the map to the Portkey, he added his letter to the pile on the bed. Now, how was Ron supposed to get to the right place if it was under the Fidelius? Or better yet, if it wasn't the place the MLE was suspecting? A Portkey would do it, but there was no way for Harry to conjure one. He would have to know where the trip was going to end.

But if the trip would end wherever he was... That might work.

Now he only had to apologize and explain his idea to Ron in the form of a letter, sneak out and find the Portkey, get to Ginny and Andromeda, and then escape the vengeful murderer, hopefully with the cure to his infection. His stomach was in knots even when he thought of it. There was no way in hell it was all going to end well.


	12. Chapter 12: Cat and Mice

**Chapter 12 - Cat and Mice**

In the end, getting out of the house hadn't proved to be too much of a problem. All the other current inhabitants had been too distracted to keep an eye on the door; they had all been in various stages of shock, rage and confusion, trying to figure out a way to break the news to him. He had paused in the hall, somewhat surprised that Ron and Hermione, despite being the loudest, hadn't been the only ones there. The entire Weasley clan, sans Ginny, had been present, along with Teddy and the Dursleys. George had tried to keep Teddy from listening to the conversation that was mainly about Harry and his somewhat rash nature, but he hadn't been very successful.

When Harry had seen Teddy, he had almost thrown the Invisibility Cloak away and abandoned the whole plan. The look on the little boy's face when he had listened to the adults thoughtlessly predicting what Harry was going to do had been heartbreaking, and George had been the only one who noticed. After a moment's hesitation, it had only made Harry more determined to get Andromeda back. Teddy needed his grandmother.

No, sneaking out wouldn't have been a problem even without the extensive Auror-training. The only trouble Harry was having with his self-imposed rescue mission was the moral conflict about it.

Ron and Hermione had each other, so although they would most likely miss him, they would be fine in the end. The rest of the Weasleys would be fine, too; Harry hadn't been very present in their lives during the past two years, anyway. The only Weasley Harry was worried about was George; he had already been left behind once, and he had relied heavily on Harry to get through it, so the two had become closer. However, Harry was nowhere near an irreplaceable confidante, so George, too, would undoubtedly survive.

If something was to go wrong with Harry's mission, little Teddy Lupin would suffer the most. Teddy was already an orphan, and now Harry was risking all - both - parental figures the boy had left. Idly Harry wondered if this was what Sirius had thought before running off to the Ministry when Harry was fifteen. Probably not, Harry decided; Sirius's godson had been directly in danger, and Harry knew that if Teddy had been held hostage now, there would never have been a moment's hesitation or even a thought to what this meant for Harry himself.

Harry wasn't exactly hesitating now, either, he was just considering his actions. It was already half past nine, and he was standing by the statue of Peter Pan, with a crumpled letter held tightly in his left fist. It was also the Portkey that was scheduled to activate in less than two minutes. To a casual onlooker it would have seemed like Harry was staring at the family admiring the statue, but he couldn't really even see it.

For so long, his world had more or less centred on Ginny Weasley and Teddy Lupin. He would have done anything for them, and even if the love he felt for them couldn't have been more different, he was equally devoted to both, even if they had almost been at odds with each other in Harry's mind. Sometimes doing right by one meant brushing off the other, or at least it felt like it. The feeling had never been as strong as it was now, when doing right by Ginny meant holding on to the Portkey and going through the motions of the suicide mission, and doing right by Teddy meant letting go and moving on with his life.

Harry's fingers didn't even twitch. Once, he had braved a grieving older woman he had never really spoken with to care for a baby he had never seen, because he had felt sorry for the orphan and guilty for his part in the parents' death. He would never admit it aloud, but the first time he had gone to visit Teddy and Andromeda after the Battle of Hogwarts, it had been only the thoughts of Remus that got him through the front door. Now similar feelings were enough to coerce him into sacrificing his life for a woman who had done nothing but lied to him for two years and broken his heart.

It was a funny feeling, the people-saving-thing, acknowledged Harry as the Portkey activated and whisked him away.

None of the Muggles in the park even noticed as he disappeared.

x-x

Ron had decided that going over what to say to Harry was a waste of time. Harry was a big boy, he could handle it; besides, he would most likely have trouble even getting out of bed, considering how painful the injury had seemed to be earlier. This knowledge had eased Ron's mind - after all, how could Harry do something stupid if he couldn't move?

Then Ron had entered Harry's room and found it empty. It was like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out; he was simultaneously feeling empty and filled with dread. He could hear the voices drifting from the hall; Harry would have heard them, too. Harry knew Ginny had left. Slowly, Ron turned around, going back down the stairs. If Harry was still in the house, Ron knew where to find him.

The instant he saw the two new pieces of parchment on Ginny's bed, he called for his wife. As if it hadn't been enough that Ginny had gone missing, Harry had done exactly what Ron had thought he would.

Ron quickly scanned through the notes, and he had to grin. His best mate wasn't as mad as Ron had thought he was, after all. Harry had left instructions. For this rash rescue mission, Harry actually had a plan. A glance at his watch wiped the smile off Ron's face; it was already half past nine. He had to hurry.

Hermione hadn't had time to even get up the stairs before Ron was running down. The expression on his face probably answered any questions she had, but he spoke anyway; they were close enough to the hall that everyone else would hear, too. It was good; there would be no need for more explanations.

"Harry left. The note he got yesterday wasn't from Kingsley, and he went to get a Portkey to get to Fenwick," explained Ron, talking loud and fast, hoping everyone caught what he was saying. "He knows what he's doing, but he needs help, and I have to get to the Ministry."

Hermione barely had time to step out of the way before he was running again, and without a backwards glance, Ron was out of the house and had Disapparated.

x-x

Ginny hadn't really expected to live much longer after she went to Hyde Park. It hadn't surprised her in the slightest that she hadn't been in the park for five minutes when she was attacked; she had grown used to the fact that the Cat seemed to be omniscient. He had known Ginny was in the park, and he did what he wanted with her.

However, Ginny was slightly surprised that she hadn't been killed. She had prepared herself for something slow and excruciating, but she had just been knocked unconscious. When she came to her senses, she was lying on the floor of an empty room that looked like it had once been a rather spacious living room. It might have been cosy once, but now the windows and the fireplace were all boarded shut and the floor was covered in dust, except for the narrowpath from the door to the place where Ginny was lying; it was obviously used often, for someone's footsteps had made a clear trail in the dust.

Even as she was taking in the room, Ginny realised that her hands were tied behind her back and her legs were bound together. She couldn't crawl, much less walk or run, so there was practically no way for her to get away. Not that she would have made it far without her wand, anyway; it was missing from the pocket of her jeans, where it had been earlier. The idea that someone had possibly groped through her pockets made her shudder.

After she had taken in the room in front of her and acknowledged that she could hardly move because of the ropes on her wrists and ankles, she was finally made aware of what had initially woken her. Someone's feet connected with her back again and again. With a groan, Ginny rolled over, and to her immense relief, she saw Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy, both tied up just like her.

"Ginny! Are you all right? How did he get to you? Didn't you go to the Aurors?" Andromeda was firing questions so fast that half of them escaped Ginny, who was still somewhat groggy as an after-effect of the Stunning spell she had been hit with.

"I'm fine, I think," she replied, trying to sit up. After a few attempts, she made it. "Are you both all right? Has he hurt you?"

"We're not injured," said Andromeda, and Narcissa nodded in confirmation. "What's been going on? Why are you here?"

"How much do you know?" asked Ginny, uncertain of what she should say. If they got out of here, Andromeda and Narcissa would eventually find out everything, but Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to be around when Andromeda heard Ginny had more or less come willingly.

"We know Fenwick's been blackmailing you for over a year. We know he wanted to get you and Harry, we know Draco's gone missing and we know there's been an impostor pretending to be me," answered Andromeda, keeping her voice down. Ginny gulped.

"What do you mean, wanted Harry and me? Why me?" she asked. All this time, she had thought she had been just a ploy to get to Harry - just a crucial part in the plan, but nothing more than that. The knowledge that Fenwick had wanted to get to her all along creeped her out a little. What had she signed up for?

"We don't know that," said Andromeda. "Ginny, is everyone else all right?"

"They were the last time I saw them. Well, except for Harry - Fenwick's used a curse on him that's going to kill him if it isn't stopped. When Harry found out about the impostor, he moved us all under a Fidelius. Draco isn't missing, either, he's in protective custody - he helped Harry with the investigation. So no matter what, Teddy and Draco will be fine," said Ginny, trying to remember everything that had happened and decide what was important enough to share with the other women. She figured they would first like to hear about the people they cared the most about.

"Harry's dying?" Ginny couldn't stand to look at the horrified expression on Andromeda's face, so she stared at the floor.

"He was hit with a curse that cut him up and caused an infection. That's why I'm here," said Ginny softly. "He'll die without an antidote or a counter curse. The Healers don't know what to do, and Fenwick killed the two who might have had some idea. So I got a note that said that if I gave up, he'd save Harry."

Andromeda let out a strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a groan.

"I had to do it, Andromeda, I couldn't just do nothing and let him die! I had to take the chance," explained Ginny, looking up at Andromeda again. They were both more or less ignoring Narcissa, who seemed to be only vaguely interested in Harry and Ginny. "He ought to let you go now, too. At least that's what he said in the earlier letters."

Now it wasn't Andromeda that was about to reply to her, but Narcissa - however, she had barely had time to open her mouth before a door opened somewhere behind Ginny. Ginny couldn't see who entered, but Andromeda and Narcissa could, and it seemed neither liked what they saw. Andromeda looked like she was in pain.

Ginny twisted her torso to see, too, and instantly wished she hadn't. On the doorway stood Harry, his face sweaty and grey, and a man Ginny presumed was Joseph Fenwick, with his wand pointed at Harry. Ginny had to close her eyes in an effort to keep her tears at bay; it was all going wrong now.

"You should let them go," said Harry, his voice low and rough. "You already got what you wanted."

"Get in," ordered Fenwick in response, jabbing Harry's back with the wand. Harry's expression didn't change, but Ginny knew it must have been painful. Obediently Harry walked right beside her and, at Fenwick's command, sat down while Fenwick walked to Narcissa and Andromeda. With a casual flick of the wand, Harry's hands were tightly bound as well.

"What are you doing? Get away from me!" Andromeda was all but shouting as Fenwick placed another envelope on her lap and pushed her so close to her sister that Andromeda was practically lying on top of Narcissa. Now both women were protesting loudly, but Fenwick just coolly tapped his wand at the envelope. The two of them disappeared.

"I keep my promises," said Fenwick gruffly. "I promised to tell Weasley how to heal your injury if she showed up, and I told you I'd let them go if you got here. Now I've kept my end of the deal."

For Ginny, it was oddly disconcerting to hear that Harry, too, had had some mail that he hadn't shared with her. She was fairly certain he hadn't told anyone else, either. Ron was in for a big surprise, then; he would soon find out that both his sister and his best friend had disappeared, both gone to save someone else. At least Harry's appearance had done what it was supposed to do; in the end, Ginny had only been thinking of Harry and saving him, and now it looked like that wasn't going to work.

Although Ginny was horrified at the thought of Harry showing up, and wishing that he had stayed at home, it somehow still hurt that he hadn't come for her. He had come to get Andromeda to safety. So far, he hadn't even looked at Ginny, he had been only focused on Fenwick, Narcissa and Andromeda. It stung, because Ginny wouldn't have been there if she hadn't loved him so much. Of course, Harry was thinking of Teddy, and Ginny couldn't begrudge him that; she loved the little boy, too, and if Harry had thought that he was going to die anyway and knew there was a way to save Teddy's grandmother, there was no way that Harry would have stayed away. She knew that. He wouldn't have been Harry if he hadn't come, not really, and no matter how much it frustrated her, she had known all along that he if there was any way to get there, he would find it. Apparently, Fenwick had presented it to him.

"You promised to leave Ginny alone, too," said Harry. Despite the small disappointment she had felt only moments before, Harry's words felt like a physical blow to Ginny. So he really had come to save her, too? After everything she had done to him? But she had known all along that he would, have she? That was why she had written him the letter that told him not to do anything stupid; the letter that was currently in the pocket of her jeans. After the last note she had received, she had thought Harry's physical condition would have been enough to keep him in Grimmauld Place. Judging by the colour of his face, it should have been; apparently, the painkillers were still affecting him.

"Well, I might have done that, but then she came to me. It would be quite rude to ignore her now that she is here, wouldn't it?" asked Fenwick lightly, and Ginny was suddenly forcibly reminded of the man she had met in the Leaky Cauldron; his casual, almost cheery tones were much worse than the gruff voice he had used earlier, and Ginny had to fight to keep from shivering again. It was almost pathetic, in her opinion; some would say that this was nothing compared to some of the horrors she had lived through.

Then again, Ginny had always known what to expect with the Death Eaters. Now Fenwick had her and Harry bound and defenceless, and she had no idea what the man wanted to do with them. Her mind was conjuring up images of tin cans and the werewolves' victims she had seen, and suddenly, she wanted Harry out. Physical pain she could deal with; she would be able to take everything Fenwick could do to her, but it was unbearable to imagine seeing it done to Harry.

"No. You said you'd leave her alone. She hasn't done anything!" Harry's protests were cut off by a derisive snort from Fenwick; he looked angry again, and he was glaring at Harry with so much contempt that many weaker men would have been terrified. Harry just glared back, and Ginny felt an upsurge of affection towards him at that moment.

"Hasn't done anything? Mr Potter, don't tell me that you haven't seen what a wicked, manipulative witch she is! I know you've seen first hand how easily she can make anyone believe her lies," said Fenwick coolly. This got Ginny's hackles rose, too.

"I don't think I've ever lied to you, Mr Fenwick," she said, concentrating to keep her voice steady. The man didn't seem surprised to hear that Ginny knew his name. "And I would have never lied to Harry, either, if you hadn't made me."

"You blame me for your shortcomings, then. I truly cannot see why you've been praised for your backbone, Miss Weasley. You always choose the easy way out," retorted Fenwick, kneeling down next to Ginny so he was eye-to-eye with her. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. There was no way for her to get away from him, and her heart hammered in her chest; she was almost sure that both Harry and Fenwick would be able to hear it.

"You lie and cheat, and when it gets hard on you, you give up and run away. That's what you do. I've watched you. Whenever you get the chance, you take off," taunted Fenwick, leaning in even closer. Ginny was now so completely frozen that she didn't even breathe.

"You're not very observant, are you?" asked Harry; his tones were light, but he was sitting so close to Ginny that she could feel him next to her, and she knew he was extremely tense. "For her, the easy way out would have meant taking the chance and telling the Aurors about you two years ago. It's a shame she refused to take the risk. It would have been nice to get this over with back when it all started."

"You're wrong again, Mr Potter, if you think this all started two years ago," said Fenwick, finally getting to his feet and further away from Ginny. Harry relaxed slightly, and Ginny knew that was what he had wanted; he had meant his words to distract Fenwick to get away from her.

"When did it start, then? When your daughter died? When your wife killed herself?" Harry's tones weren't mocking; he wasn't goading the other man, he seemed to be merely curious. He used the same polite, querying tones one would use when asking about the weather forecast, and Ginny had to wonder what he was going for. If she knew Harry at all, he had an agenda; he was stalling. Whatever Fenwick had planned would wait until they were done talking, and Harry was deliberately keeping the conversation going. Fenwick either didn't realise this, or was playing along, for he seemed eager to get his story out.

"It started with your interview to the Quibbler, Mr Potter. It started when my daughter became obsessed with you, when Harry Potter was all she would talk about. She would go on and on about how unfair it was that nobody believed you when you said Voldemort was back, and about how she couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts after that summer so she could join your silly little club," said Fenwick, sounding, like Harry, that this was a cosy tea party and they were talking about Quidditch. He couldn't quite keep the anger and resentment out of his expression; while Harry looked calm and collected, Fenwick was sneering and glaring at the wall behind Harry and Ginny as if he wished it would crumble down upon them.

"Our silly little club? Dumbledore's Army, you mean?" asked Harry, again politely curious. Fenwick nodded.

"She was so disappointed when you didn't continue it, but she kept talking about you. We heard more about you and your escapades that year than we heard of what was going on with her," he replied. "She wouldn't come home after Dumbledore died, insisted she would stay in school because you were staying, too. And then the next year, you didn't go to school. You went hiding, and all the while she kept saying that one day, you would come back to fight, and she would fight with you.

"And then our beloved Miss Weasley stepped in. She started recruiting the students to your stupid army, and my daughter's Harry Potter diatribe turned into gushing about Ginny Weasley. We heard all about how she was so _brave_, how she was so _talented_, how she wouldn't back down from anything. Sarah got detentions and she was tortured, but she didn't mind because Ginny Weasley didn't complain, either."

Ginny was fighting back tears at this point. She had been fond of Sarah Fenwick; she had been incredibly resilient, very bright and very dedicated to what she was doing. She had been underage, like Ginny, but still she had snuck back in to fight. What had happened to Sarah was in no way fair or deserved, and although Ginny had sometimes blamed herself for encouraging so many, she knew she wasn't responsible for it. It looked like Sarah's father didn't see it that way.

"When you did come back, Mr Potter, of course she stayed to fight along all of you. When you wouldn't give yourself in, she fought, and she was hurt. And she was left to die because she was already taken for dead, because you prioritised and my little girl looked like a lost cause!" Fenwick's casual tones were long gone; Ginny had seen this look on him before, when she had been in St Mungo's waiting for news about Harry's condition. Joseph Fenwick was beyond lost in his grief and anger, and underneath the resentment at the situation and the terror of what was waiting for her and Harry, Ginny felt sorry for him.

"She was in St Mungo's for two years. Two years, while we waited for her to die, and she didn't know what was going on, she just kept telling us the same things over and over, about Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, about how she wanted to be like them and about what she had done in Hogwarts. She died when she should have graduated, and whom was my mother talking to when we were leaving the hospital? Why, no one else than Ginny Weasley herself." When Fenwick ended his story, Ginny couldn't say anything. She couldn't trust her voice, and even if she had been able to, she wouldn't have known what to say.

"I got her file from St. Mungo's. She was tortured, and that's why she didn't know what was going on, and she was going to die because a werewolf tore at her, presumably when she was already defenceless because of the Cruciatus. Even years of magical treatment can't cure injuries like that; the most the Healers could do was keep her alive. Why did they do that?" Harry didn't seem curious anymore, either. If anything, he was sad and slightly disgusted.

"We couldn't just do nothing and let her die," snapped Fenwick, turning his glare at Harry, who still didn't cower under it.

"But the Healers did let her die. They didn't notice that infection, and your daughter died of it. That's why you killed them, isn't it? You got the Death Eaters first, because they were the reason she was dying in the first place. Then you got the Healers, and now here we are. Are we the last on your list?" asked Harry. His tones grew lighter towards the end, and even though Ginny was half-convinced that he was insane at this point - for now he was deliberately goading the man who was holding the wand while they had no way to defend themselves - she was also slightly impressed. He was good at keeping his head and staying calm.

"No, you were the first on my list. You just were harder to get to," replied Fenwick. He, too, was now using light tones, and the whole conversation seemed surreal to Ginny. It was ironic that Fenwick called her an actress, when she was the only one who wasn't acting anymore.

"I find that hard to believe. The Azkaban breakout must have been difficult to organise; you even got Dementors for it. And the murders of the Healers needed very precise attention to detail, while getting us to you only took you a few letters," commented Harry. Fenwick smiled at this. It was strange; for a moment his expression was like that of an eager schoolboy who had just been praised by his favourite teacher. Then the smile disappeared, and the contemptuous look was back on his face.

"You underestimate my troubles. I just wanted to kill the Death Eaters and the Healers. They killed my little girl, but you got her to them in the first place. I wanted you to know how much it hurts to have the people you love the most taken away from you so cruelly with no explanation. I just took one person from you both, and looked what happened to you. You weren't coping very well, were you? Of course, I always knew it wouldn't end there. But it was the hardest part.

"The Dementors were very easy to get. You would be surprised to know how few people have morals like yours. It was a laugh, how easily few of the old Azkaban workers could be persuaded to do a little herding for me when I told them what I was going to do with my prey. Working in a prison for so long and making sure the Dementors couldn't suck too much out of the felons who very much deserved it takes its toll on a person. They were all quite resentful; it was taxing and underrated work, and the people they protected certainly didn't appreciate it," said Fenwick with a casual shrug.

"The Healers were even easier. In a place like St. Mungo's you only need an Invisibility Cloak to avoid attention. People in hospitals don't pay much attention to their surroundings, anyway, they usually have other things on their mind. And the necessary spells didn't take a lot of time. They never even saw me coming," he continued quietly, tilting his head to the side. "It was almost too easy. But you, Mr Potter, you were not easy. It took me a lot of time and money to get to you. It took me a year to even get to your apartment. That's quite an accomplishment; I used to work for Gringotts, see. Your wards were very tricky at first."

"Yeah, I like my privacy," retorted Harry dryly. "You violated it quite a lot. Other than me, you must be the only one who's ever been poking around in my Pensieve. I didn't really like that."

"I enjoyed it. You have interesting memories," said Fenwick; Ginny was repulsed by the genuinely amused grin on the man's face. "Your life wasn't so interesting to watch, though. Don't you ever get tired of the same old routine? I knew it by heart after a week. You're predictable."

"I was going to ask about that. How were you watching me? I couldn't figure it out," said Harry. His polite tones were finally cracking slightly, and there was a new edge to his voice, but Ginny couldn't tell what it was.

"Of course you couldn't, you're a wizard! Although you grew up with Muggles, you've been out of their world for so long that you don't really know it anymore. You were looking for spells and magical devices; I used cameras, enhanced to work despite all the magic in your home." Now Fenwick was gloating, taunting Harry, but when Ginny glanced at the Auror next to her, his face was again an image of calmness. He wasn't going to respond to the goading.

"That explains a lot," said Harry, nodding slowly. "It was very clever of you, and I never would have expected it. I never would have expected you to do or say most of the things that you have done and said."

"And why is that?" The other man had to ask, because it was clear Harry wasn't done, but he had stopped talking. Harry just shrugged.

"Well, I didn't expect you to target the Healers. The Death Eaters I can understand, even if I don't agree with your actions, but the Healers tried to help your daughter. I didn't really expect you to let Narcissa Malfoy go so easily tonight, although I'm glad you did; she was heavily involved with the Death Eaters, after all. And I still can't really understand why you're keeping us here now. Is it therapeutic to tell us the whole story?" he asked, and Ginny didn't really know whether to laugh or kick his arse; he was mocking Fenwick. Harry was making fun of the man who was pointing a wand at them. Apparently, Fenwick didn't appreciate the humour, either.

"Didn't I already tell you why you are here?" His voice was colder than it had been in the entire time, and trembling with rage; at least, judging by the distorted expression on his face, Ginny thought it was rage.

"You told us we inspired your daughter to fight for something she believed in. By saying we made her do it, that we're responsible for her death, you imply that she didn't know what she was doing. Mr Fenwick, with all due respect, I don't think your daughter was an idiot." It seemed to Ginny like the air in the room cooled down several degrees while Harry was talking, so she was shocked to see Fenwick putting away his wand.

She wasn't pleasantly surprised when the man turned on his heels and walked out of the room.

x-x

Ron's project wasn't going as well as he had hoped it would. Harry's idea was going to work, but it was taking longer than they had been prepared for. He had explained to Robards what was going on, and they had received clearance from the Minister and assembled a team in less than twenty minutes, but the Unspeakables working on the Portkey were much slower than Ron would have liked.

"Come on, come on, come on..." He was staring at the table of the conference room and keeping up a steady chant below his breath, loud enough that everyone knew he was restless, but still so quiet that the man and woman trying to put the thing together weren't really bothered by it. There were almost thirty people gathered inside the room, and only two were actually doing something; Ron wasn't the only one who was frustrated.

"Auror Weasley?" A hesitant voice from the doorway got Ron to look up from the Unspeakables. One of the secretary-types was standing in the hallway, peaking her head in and looking for all the world like she wanted to run away from all the quiet Aurors. "Did you know there's some kind of a commotion in your office? It's been getting louder for ten minutes, it's starting to disturb the..."

Ron shot up from his chair instantly and took off at a run. Since he was fairly certain the ruckus couldn't be caused by Harry, he needed to check it out quickly. The letter Ginny had left behind had mentioned that instructions were to be left to him; this might be it, and if it was, it was important.

A few passers-by had stopped in the corridor, but no one had gone in to check what was going on. It didn't take long for Ron to find out why; the commotion was two distinctly female voices arguing, and he could see it wasn't a situation anyone particularly wanted to interrupt. He didn't hesitate to throw the door open.

He faltered in his steps when he saw Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks on the floor of his office, both tied up. There was indeed an envelope by Andromeda's feet. It didn't take him long to asses the situation; he quickly cut the ropes on the women's ankles and wrists and helped them up.

"Ron, he has Harry and Ginny," said Andromeda as Ron was freeing her hands. "I think it's somewhere in Hogsmeade, but I'm not sure. We couldn't see out from the windows."

"Where is my son?" was the first thing Narcissa asked; she didn't even wait for her sister to stop talking.

"Draco is in protective custody, and we already knew Harry and Ginny are with Fenwick. We're working on it. Do you need a Healer?" asked Ron, and was relieved when both women shook their heads. "Right. Mrs Malfoy, we'll deal with the situation first, and then we'll get your son home. You're welcome to wait here. Andromeda, you can go to -"

"I know where Teddy is, Ginny and I spoke briefly. I think I shall leave now. Send me a Patronus when you have any news, all right?" Andromeda interrupted him. Ron nodded.

"We'll need to question you later for your account of the events," he reminded her, and she gave him a small smile.

"I promise to co-operate," she said, and Ron had to smile a little. He reached down for the envelope, and shot another glance at Narcissa.

"Are you going to stay here?" he asked. He took her silence as a yes. "Make yourself comfortable."

Ron left the office with a new spring on his step; the two previous hostages had been released, so perhaps Harry and Ginny knew what they were doing, after all.

x-x

Harry's painkillers were wearing off. Talking and breathing were beginning to hurt again, at the very worst moment. He wasn't just clammy anymore; he was full-out sweating now, and starting to shiver. He was glad Fenwick had left for the time being, because he needed some time to recover from all the talking and pretending to be fine.

"Are you all right?" he asked Ginny, or at least tried to; it came out more as panting.

"He hasn't done anything to me. Harry, why are you here? You're ill! You shouldn't have come," she replied softly. "How did you even get here?"

"He sent me a Portkey yesterday," said Harry, trying to breathe without having to gasp for breath. "Ginny, he was going to leave you alone. If I had been here before you, you would have been fine."

"You would have been fine if you had let me come alone," she retorted, and Harry chuckled.

"We have some serious communication issues in our relationship," he said, and kept laughing even though he didn't find the situation even remotely amusing. Ginny had come to save Harry, as Fenwick had known she would, and Harry had then come to save her, as everyone had known he would.

"I know. I think we should work on it, now that we have nothing better to do. I read this article in Witch Weekly once, it listed some of the most common reasons," Ginny commented. Harry knew she was trying to distract them both and lighten the atmosphere; he was fairly certain she was making it all up.

"Oh yeah? What are they?" he asked, taking in big gulps of air. He knew he would need to pull himself together shortly when Fenwick came back, but for now, he was going to act like the lethally injured and pained man that he was.

"Well, one can be too dedicated to their work, and it leaves too little time to take care of the relationship properly. Maybe we're too career-orientated?" Ginny asked. She was trying, but she couldn't quite keep her worry from her tones, and Harry knew he had to address it.

"I'm fine, keep going," he encouraged quietly, turning his head to look at her. She was pale and visibly anxious, but put on a smile for his sake.

"Okay. Then there was this whole section dedicated to false selfishness and selflessness. Apparently, you shouldn't worry too much about honesty and openness stinging for a bit, because lying and omitting information can lead to worse issues. Even if it could hurt you to tell it or your partner might not like hearing it, it should always be said if you consider it important." Now Harry knew she was making it up as she talked. "We've definitely got that covered, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I think we do. What else do we have covered?" asked Harry, grinning at her despite his pain and the situation they were in, hoping that it came out more like a smile than a grimace.

"I think that was it for us. Or do you reckon our children get in the way of the relationship between the two of us? Or that we feel like we're too uncertain of our feelings to talk about things openly? Be honest, I swear I can take it," said Ginny, pretending to be solemn. Harry snorted.

"Definitely, I'm jealous of our children. I feel you open up to them more than you do to me," he replied. "Aren't you going to suggest that we've been together for so long that we just think we know what the other is thinking and feel like we don't have to talk anymore?"

"No, because I know that would be ridiculous to suggest. Regardless of what Fenwick may think, life with you never becomes boring and predictable," Ginny retorted. Harry laughed at first, but then sighed wistfully. It was insane to think of this now that anything could happen to them at any given moment, but he had really missed these easy conversations with her. Although a large part of him wished Ginny was somewhere far away from here, from Fenwick and the danger, a part of him was happy that she was with him.

"Are we going to get out of here, Harry?" asked Ginny after a moment of silence, so softly that Harry had to strain to hear it.

"Of course we are. Ron should be working on it as we speak," he told her, keeping his voice down. "We'll be fine, but I just wanted to say..."

"I won't be feeling very confident if you say goodbye next," Ginny tried to joke, but Harry could feel how tense she was.

"No, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I think that I was a little too hard on you earlier, about this whole thing. I would have done the same thing if I had been in your shoes," he told her quietly. Ginny smiled wryly at this.

"You would have solved the whole thing earlier. You've got more resources for that kind of things than I do," she remarked, and Harry had to agree.

"Maybe that was why he chose to blackmail you first," he said. Ginny nodded in agreement, but quickly froze when the door creaked open and Fenwick entered again, dragging a chair behind him.

"Have you made your peace yet?" he asked lightly, bringing the chair right in front of Harry so that it was in the centre of his field of vision, and just so far away that Harry wouldn't be able to reach it, not even with his feet. He had a bad feeling that he knew why the chair was positioned that way, and he was sure he was going to be sick.

Fenwick confirmed his fears by freeing Ginny's legs.

"Sit down on the chair, Miss Weasley," he ordered, pointing his wand at Ginny who had no choice but to do as she was told. As soon as she was on the chair, Fenwick flicked his wand and her ankles were suddenly tied to the legs of the chair. Ginny's struggling against the binds didn't move the chair at all.

"I hope you said your goodbyes, because we're about to reconstruct a scene from my past, with a few small exceptions," Fenwick said. "Mr Potter, you will just sit aside and watch while your girlfriend dies, just as I was forced to see my daughter fading away. Of course, my daughter's final moments weren't quite as gruesome as hers will be, and I wasn't about to die then. Now you will both know that after I'm done with Miss Weasley, both of you will be left here, all alone as I promised. The infection is comforting now, isn't it? You won't be here long, Mr Potter."

"Don't you dare touch her!" Harry knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he watched Fenwick tap his wand on Ginny's shoulder. He was apparently using a cutting curse. Ginny flinched and twisted away, but her range of motion wasn't very large. Harry was trashing on the floor, fighting against the ropes and screaming at Fenwick, partly because of the pain in his abdomen but mostly because of the terror in Ginny's eyes. If he ever got his hands free, he was going to kill that bastard, and he told the man as much.

"I think we'll start with shallow cuts. Might last longer." Fenwick shot Harry a wicked grin and tapped his wand on Ginny again.


	13. Chapter 13: Time

**Chapter 13 - Time**

Harry had lost all track of time after Fenwick had started cutting Ginny; he only knew it had been the longest night of his life. Ron hadn't shown up yet, and if things had gone as he had hoped they would, there would already be a team of Aurors present. Harry's hopes had been waning slowly with each cut that appeared on Ginny, and as the painkillers had completely worn off, Harry had given up all hope for himself.

The pain was excruciating; he felt as if his insides were on fire, and every move he made was like a knife twisting his intestines. Even shallow breaths were painful, and it was beginning to feel like he wasn't getting enough oxygen. If his lungs were failing and help wasn't going to turn up soon, even getting him to St. Mungo's wouldn't do much good.

It hadn't silenced him. No matter how painful it was, how exhausted he was, and how he was practically suffocating himself, Harry kept struggling against the ropes around him. He also kept up a steady stream of threats and swearing, and even if it had been more impressive if he hadn't been gasping for breath, Fenwick seemed wary. Of course, the man had assumed Harry would have given up by now, and if it wasn't for Ginny, Harry would have.

Ginny had, at first, alternated between flinching in pain and pleading at Fenwick to stop. No reference to Sarah helped, and Ginny had quickly given it up as useless. She had slowly grown quieter, and in turn, Harry had become louder. Now Ginny was silent and slumped over in her chair, pale as a ghost, but at least she was still shivering and breathing. It was a small comfort; Harry knew she was bleeding out, and it wasn't going to take long.

Fenwick knew it, too, for he finally stepped away from her, eyeing her with a speculative gleam in his eye.

"Since you've been so vocal this evening, I think I ought to ask for your opinion, Mr Potter. Should I just slice her neck open to speed it up a little, or do you think she would appreciate a few more moments here?" he asked. Harry's rage was almost like a cloud in front of his eyes; his vision grew hazy and the details of the room blurred.

"I told you not to touch her," he grunted out; it only amused Fenwick.

"That doesn't answer my question. Well, I think we should get it over faster," he commented, pointing his wand at Ginny again.

For Harry, it seemed like all time had stopped. If Fenwick cut Ginny's throat, she would die. If he didn't do it, she _might _die, but she most definitely would if Fenwick cut open a major artery. But what was Harry supposed to do to stop the man? He had no wand and he was lying on the floor, with his arms and legs bound.

When Fenwick started to flick his wand, Harry acted on instinct alone; he rolled closer to Fenwick and kicked the man with both of his legs as hard as he could, aiming for the knees. Several things happened at once - Fenwick's legs gave out with a sickening crunch, the spell aimed at Ginny hit Harry's abdomen, and a crash sounded from one of the other rooms of the house.

One last thought registered in Harry's mind before he knew no more: it hadn't been rage, after all, that had blurred his vision, but asphyxiation.

x-x

It took an hour.

It had taken ten minutes to figure out if making the Portkey was even possible, and actually creating it with as little information as they had took an hour. Sixty minutes, during which Ron was constantly painfully aware of the fact that his sister and his best friend were with Joseph Fenwick, the man who had sliced up Death Eaters and stored them in tin cans.

Narcissa Malfoy had stayed in the Ministry and agreed to give her statement instantly, saying that she would like to visit the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as few times as possible, as she did not want to start rumours. Ron had listened to her story for a moment, and it certainly hadn't eased his anxiety; Narcissa described Fenwick as a bitter, ruthless man who was convinced Harry and Ginny had wronged him somehow, and said he seemed to be obsessed with the idea of paying back in kind.

"I have never seen a man so focused on achieving a goal" were her exact words. Considering her family had once provided a place for Voldemort to live, Ron found the comparison rather disturbing.

It must have been the longest hour of his life. Ending someone's life completely and irreversibly took only two words, and it didn't take an hour to do it. At first, Ron had been counting how many times over Fenwick could have already done it. The incantation kept playing in his thoughts like a leaking faucet; the steady "drip, drip, drip" was replaced by "Avada Kedavra", and as he thought of this metaphor, Ron was fairly certain he would never be able to stand looking at faucets again. His only consolation was that if Fenwick had wanted to just kill them, they would have both died a lot sooner.

Now, at 22:40, when the Portkey was finally done and the team of Aurors was ready to depart, Ron wasn't eagerly anticipating taking off. Of course he wanted to save Harry and Ginny. He just wouldn't be able to stand being there if it turned out that it was too late to save them.

"On the count of three," Ron said, as the Aurors were preparing for take-off. There were six of them, plus Ron, all holding on to a memo that had been closest by when the time to create the Portkey had come. It was as if someone else had taken over his body and was doing the talking for him; Ron felt like a mere passenger. "One, two, three..."

He tapped the Portkey with his wand and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement disappeared from around him. The next thing he knew, he was crashing onto a table in a small kitchen he didn't recognise. None of the Aurors had remained standing during the landing, and the sight of them quickly scrambling to their feet would have been amusing in less dire circumstances.

"Start with this floor," instructed Ron quietly. "If you find the hostages or Fenwick, alert someone immediately."

Ron had barely left the kitchen before he faltered in his steps; Harry's wand was lying on the floor of the hall, looking for the entire world as if he had just dropped it there. Ron's momentary stop stilled the other Aurors - they all cautiously looked around, trying to see what had disturbed Ron. That was when they all heard it.

There was a small, almost inaudible moan of pain coming from their right, from behind a closed door.

Disregarding all caution, Ron took off at a run and blasted the door open, almost coming to a full stop when he saw what had been hidden behind it.

Ginny was tied to a chair, limp and lifeless, bleeding all over the floor. Harry was lying next to her, his face ashen and his eyes closed, with no signs of life, blood still gushing out from a deep gash in his abdomen. Behind the two of them lay a mousy-haired man, half-sitting on the floor with one of his legs bent at a strange angle, reaching for the wand that had obviously fallen from his grasp and was now just out of his reach.

It took Ron all of two seconds to recover enough from the shock to Stun the man.

The team of Aurors became a flurry of activity; four attended to Harry and Ginny, two to each, and one slipped and slid over the pool of blood on the floor to get to Fenwick. One stayed by Ron, whether to catch him should he pass out or to restrain him from attacking the unconscious bastard behind the nightmare, he didn't know. Both were viableoptions.

"There's a pulse," called out one of the two men surrounding Ginny; Ron knew his name, but couldn't recall it at the moment. He didn't care, either, really. Ginny was alive. The tightening in his chest eased a little.

"Get her to St. Mungo's, then!" He knew he was shouting, and he knew it was probably unnecessary, but he was nonetheless glad to see that the three promptly disappeared. There was no popping sound to signal Apparition, so Ron assumed they had used the emergency Portkey every Auror on duty had. It was a good idea, as they had no idea what the wards over the house were like.

The Auror that was kneeling by Harry's neck was too quiet, and Ron's momentary relief vanished.

"How is he?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. He wasn't encouraged by the fact that the Auror's hands were visibly shaking as she searched for a pulse. He didn't need an answer. He didn't want to hear it. "Get him to the hospital, now."

The detached feeling was back. Harry couldn't be dead. Harry couldn't die. The sheer horror of the thought froze him; there was no more anger, no more fear. He was suddenly perfectly, eerily calm.

"Take Fenwick to the Ministry, and tell Shacklebolt what has happened," he told the two remaining Aurors. "Then come back to go over the crime scene. I'll be in St. Mungo's if anyone needs me."

He didn't wait to see if his instructions were being followed, he just turned on his heel and walked out of the room, back to the hall and to Harry's wand. He picked it up and pocketed it. Harry was going to want it back; the bloke was ridiculously attached to this wand.

x-x

The first thing Ron had done when he arrived to the busiest wizarding hospital in the country was taking the envelope that contained the instructions on curing Harry's infection to the witch that worked at the reception. He had garnered his share of hostile looks as he strode past the queue, and he had had to shove aside the grumpy old wizard currently at the head of the line, but when he had handed over the envelope and told the witch that she needed to take it to whoever was responsible for Harry Potter's treatment, all the muttering had stopped.

Perhaps he shouldn't have shouted it, because the entire lobby seemed to have heard him. Every single person grew silent, except for the little boy in a corner who had a case of loud hiccups and lilac bubbles coming out of his ears each time he made a sound. It only took a moment for the whispering to start. People craned their necks to see Ron better, as if staring at him would give them all the answers. The receptionist moved faster than Ron had ever seen her move, running away from her desk and through a door adorned by a big "Staff only" sign.

After that, Ron had to wait. He sent a Patronus to Grimmauld Place, with a message that told them where he was and only alluded to the seriousness of the situation. Nevertheless, his family, Andromeda and Teddy were there in minutes, demanding to know what had happened and how Harry and Ginny were. At this point, they were all huddled in a corner, with Ron sitting on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs and everyone else gathered around him.

"It seems Ginny nearly bled out, but she was alive when we got there. Harry was cut open, too," he said, this time keeping his voice low enough that no one outside the circle heard. The lifeless tones sounded foreign to him.

"How was he? Was he still conscious? Did he tell you what happened?" The questions came rapidly, all from different members of his extended family, and Ron couldn't tell who said what. He could barely make out the words.

"We couldn't even feel a pulse," he said dully. Hermione's knees gave out and she fell into the chair next to Ron's with a loud 'thump'. George, or at least Ron thought it was George, made a strange choking sound, and there were several gasps and little noises of disbelief. Ron didn't look up; he didn't want to see their faces. He had seen enough today.

Nobody said anything for a long while; the only sounds coming from the entire group were Teddy's small sobs and the occasional sniffles from the adults. Kingsley Shacklebolt dropped by, sombre and defeated, to ask for news. When Ron said that there were none, the Minister promised to come back later.

A little after midnight a weary Healer approached the group, with a chart in her hand.

"That doesn't look good," muttered George on Ron's left, almost low enough for Ron not to hear, but not quite. Having his thoughts voiced by someone else tightened the knot in Ron's chest.

"Mr. Ronald Weasley?" the Healer asked, coming to a stop in front of Ron, who nodded at her to tell her to keep going. He took in the Healer; she was obviously tired and had purplish bags under her eyes, and she definitely didn't look like a person who had just saved a national hero. Quite the opposite, in fact. Ron tried to banish that thought from his mind; he didn't even know what the Healer was there about. She could have had questions about the envelope, for all he knew.

"Mr. Potter has listedyou as next of kin." Her words quite effectively killed his hopes. He was rather surprised, actually; he knew Ginny had been his 'next of kin' while they were together, but after they had broken up, Harry had changed it. Ron had thought Harry had listed Hermione, or maybe Andromeda, but he hadn't considered it would be him. It was stupid, really, since as far as he was aware, he had spent the most time with Harry in the past two years.

"How is he?" asked Ron, and the Healer hesitantly eyed the large group around them. "They're family, just tell us, please."

"Mr Potter had a severe infection in his stomach, spleen, liver and lungs. It looks like it started with his stomach and only very recently spread to the lungs. Because of the infection and the strain it caused on his organs, they were greatly weakened, and there was plenty of inner bleeding, probably caused by him moving around too much. That means he was suffering from blood loss even before the cutting curse." The Healer paused for a moment, and at this point, Hermione was holding on to Ron's hand so tightly he was fairly certain she was cutting off his circulation.

"The cutting curse cut through his stomach and his abdominal aorta, which means the blood loss got worse. We have so far managed to stop the bleeding in the artery, but healing the infection and the damaged organs has been more difficult, and that holds true especially with his stomach. Because of the exsanguination his heart has stopped beating twice after he was admitted, but we have managed to revive him. We have also replenished his bodily fluids." Ron was now gripping Hermione's hand tighter than she had been earlier.

"And... how is he, now?" he asked hesitantly, his voice gruff but thankfully not trembling. He had no idea why he cared about whether his voice shook or not.

"His condition is still critical, but he is stable at the moment. He is in the intensive care ward, and we are constantly monitoring him. Mr Weasley, the instructions you brought saved his life."

Ron had to laugh. He probably looked like he had lost his mind; he had just heard that his best mate had technically been dead at three instances that day, and he had to laugh, because it had been Fenwick's instructions that had saved Harry in the end. It had been Fenwick that had caused that bloody infection, it had been Fenwick that had cut Harry up, and it had been Fenwick that saved him. Ron was nearly hysterical at the thought, and he decided he wanted to be the one who told the bastard the reason Harry was still alive.

x-x

After waking up, Ginny's first observation was that her brain was sluggish. _She_ was sluggish. Her body wasn't functioning properly; her muscles were weak when she tried to move, and she couldn't find the energy to sit up. For a woman who made her living by playing a sport, such feelings were particularly unfamiliar and unwelcome.

"Ginny?" It wasn't Harry's voice. It wasn't Fenwick, and it wasn't Ron. It was her mother. Her mother hadn't been in Fenwick's house. Her mother wouldn't have come to Fenwick's house. So Ginny was out, too. If she was out, where was Harry?

Considering how tired she felt and how slow her train of thought was, it was somewhat surprising that she got to Harry so quickly. Or it would have been, had it been someone else than Harry that she was thinking about.

"Mum?" She had to blink twice before her eyes would remain open.

"I'm here," her mother responded, and Ginny turned to the source of the voice. Her mother had pushed a chair as close to her bed as it could get, and was holding on to Ginny's right hand. Her father was there, too, and Bill, and Charlie, and Percy. Ron wasn't. George wasn't, either, but George wasn't particularly fond of seeing his siblings drained and unconscious, so that wasn't as alarming.

"Harry? Ron?" Her voice, too, sounded tired and drained.

"Ron and Hermione are with Harry, dear. They thought someone should be with him, too, when he wakes up." Her mother's voice was trembling. That wasn't right. Molly Weasley was a rather emotional woman, yes, but there should be no reason for her to be fighting back tears when she spoke of Harry and Ron. There should be no reason for Harry to have to 'wake up'. That implied he wasn't conscious. Waking up and tears wasn't a good combination, and even Ginny's sluggish brain seemed to know it, because the rush of adrenaline that realisation gave her woke her up good and proper. She needed to be awake for this conversation.

"Wakes up? What happened to him?" The last scene she could recall had involved Harry literally kicking and screaming, because there had been no other way for him to fight Fenwick. What had the bastard done to him? She tried to sit up, but Bill quickly stepped forward and pressed his hand on her shoulder. It didn't help her anxiety in the slightest.

"Ginny, you lost a lot of blood so you're still weak. You should take it easy," he warned her quietly. "Fenwick cut open one of Harry's arteries, so he lost a lot of blood, too, and that infection complicated things. They got him here on time, though, so he ought to be fine in a while."

It sounded like a prepared statement, something Bill had learned by heart, and that didn't ease Ginny's mental discomfort, either.

"How serious was it?" she asked, staring at Bill, because of everyone present he and Charlie were the likeliest to give her straight answers. She needed to have straight, honest answers.

"He very nearly died, Ginny," replied Bill, and although his tones weren't the slightest bit accusing, Ginny felt like it was her fault. She had started the whole mess in the first place. She had been the one who recruited Sarah Fenwick to the DA. She had taken her for dead after the Battle of Hogwarts. She had been in St. Mungo's and spoken with Joseph Fenwick's mother after Sarah had finally died. She had been the reason Harry had surrendered. She was the reason Harry had almost died.

When her mother told her to get some more rest, she didn't argue. She didn't insist on them taking her to see Harry. She just closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, going over the things she should have done differently and the consequences of her mistakes. She was incredibly grateful that Harry had survived, because if she found the guilt suffocating now, she didn't want to think about what she would have done to herself if the outcome had been different.

She knew nobody believed she was sleeping; her silent tears were proof of the fact that she was awake, but her family didn't talk to her. That was fine with her. She needed a little time to herself and her morose thoughts at the moment, anyway.

x-x

When Harry woke up, he was expecting pain. He was hoping for pain. He knew dying was completely pain-free, after having gone through it once, so if he was hurting, he would know he was alive.

He wasn't hurting.

He cautiously opened his eyes, hoping against hope that he wasn't in King's Cross. He knew he would much prefer some kind of a medical setting. The first thing in his line of vision was a blurry image of a Weasley twin. He froze; this was not good at all. The last thing he remembered was suffocating after what felt like years of physical agony, and he woke up to no pain and a Weasley twin? He blinked. The twin did not become clearer.

He wasn't wearing his glasses. He wasn't wearing his glasses, so his vision was blurry, and the twin was George; he could see the hole where the ear should be. He sighed in relief, and this got George's attention.

"Harry! Took you long enough!" He could hear the tones of relief in George's voice under the exuberance. It must have been bad.

"Good to see you, George. How long was I out?" His throat was scratchy and his voice hoarse, but he supposed George understood the message.

"Three days. You know how to pull off a dramatic rescue mission, I'll give you that," joked George, handing Harry his glasses. The room turned clearer the instant he put them on; he was in a private room, with only George for company at the moment.

"How are the others?" he asked, and George grinned.

"All loads better than you are, I'm sure. Fenwick is in custody, Ginny is getting discharged today, and Ron's around here somewhere, too. I think everyone's with Ginny right now. To be honest, she's much more exciting company than you were. Andromeda and Teddy are the only ones who aren't here, they're putting their house back together, I think. Or Andromeda is, and she refuses to let Teddy out of her sight at the moment," said George.

"Has someone gone through the house? An Auror, I mean? I didn't do a very thorough check when I was there." Harry was worried about Andromeda and his godson; if Fenwick had left a trap in their home...

"Which house do you mean, Andromeda's or Fenwick's? Trust me, they've inspected both. Multiple times," replied George, and Harry could feel himself relaxing at this assurance.

"How's Ginny?" George chuckled at Harry's question.

"If I had known you were going to start interrogating me the moment you woke up, I would have made Ron stay here, too. Ginny's all right. They've healed the cuts, and she has a few more scars, but she's fine. As I said, she's getting discharged, probably as we speak. I think her first order of business was to come and see how you're doing," he answered. "Seriously, mate, don't you want to know about yourself? I already told you that you were hurt the worst."

"I don't think I dare to ask _you _what is wrong with me," joked Harry, rolling his eyes. "You obviously want to tell me, though. Try to limit it to the physical injuries, please."

"Ah, I see your sense of humour survived, too," retorted George dryly. "Remember when the Healers told you to take it easy because of the unhealed wound in your stomach? Yeah, you should have listened to them. That infection and trying to stop Ginny from bleeding to death didn't go well together. You had a lot of inner bleeding, and then with the cutting curse, you almost bled out. And your lungs had just given out, too, when Ron got to you. So now you're in for all kinds of potions and a few weeks of strict bed rest, and rest assured there are plenty of people willing to tie you to that bed. Ginny is among them, but I don't really need that particular image."

"I see my near-death experience hasn't brought your mind out of the gutter," Harry shot back, and George sighed.

"As disgusting as it is, seeing that Ginny is my sister, I much prefer thinking about the outcome where you and Ginny are close enough that she could tie you into a bed. It would be a vast improvement of the previous situation where you both ran away from places the other might be," he said. "I still wonder how you managed to do it so successfully. Our world is incestuously small, after all."

"Well, it wasn't easy, but I had inside information," said Harry with a wink, refusing to take the subject seriously. He knew he had told Hermione that he would be fine with letting Ginny go when it was safe for her, but now that the moment had come, he realised he wouldn't be able to do it. On some level, he had known it all along, he had just stubbornly refused to admit it. Ginny Weasley was a permanent fixture in his life, whether she was physically present or not, and he had had more than enough of staying away from her.

"Yeah, Ron," chuckled George, nodding. "Speaking of Ron, I promised him and Hermione I'd fetch them once you were coherent. Will you be all right for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, of course," replied Harry, and so George left.

It didn't take long before he had another visitor; it just wasn't who he had been expecting. Instead of his two best friends, Ginny stood in the doorway, hesitantly leaning in. His surprise must have shown on his face, because her expression turned from neutral to slightly disappointed, and he hastened to fix a smile on his face. It encouraged her, and she finally stepped in.

She looked just the same as Harry remembered; the only noticeable difference that Harry could spot was a barely-there scar in her arm, peeking out from under the sleeve of her T-shirt. She wasn't alarmingly pale anymore, and although she seemed nervous, she looked to be just fine, like George had said. He almost hadn't believed it before he had seen it with his own eyes; she had been dying the last time he saw her...

"You are a bloody idiot." Ginny hadn't even sat down before she started talking, and her blunt statement made Harry laugh out loud.

"It's nice to see you, too," he retorted, and she smiled slightly. "By all means, make yourself comfortable." She had still been standing by the foot of his bed, and at his invitation, she sat down on the edge of his bed. His eyebrows rose involuntarily at her boldness, but inside he was pleased. She wasn't going to run away from him.

"You almost killed yourself! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I had to wait for two days for you to wake up, and they wouldn't even let me come see you before now!" Ginny's smile completely disappeared as she started talking again - or rather, ranting. She quickly cut herself off, though, and Harry had to wonder why. Was she still that awkward around him?

"I've told you before, I'm not going to just let you die. I have told you that, right?" asked Harry, frowning as he couldn't instantly remember. "Besides, I knew Ron was coming. You don't have nearly enough faith in your brother."

"You trust him a little too much. Do you know how hard it is to create a Portkey based on a tracking charm, when the charm leads to an Unplottable house? I've heard that lecture about a dozen times during the past few days. Ron hasn't been too pleased with you," said Ginny seriously. She was twisting her hands nervously in her lap, and Harry was dying to reach for them.

"Thank you," Ginny continued quietly after a moment. "You saved my life. Again."

"You don't need to thank me, it was partly a selfish thing," replied Harry, and she frowned slightly.

"Selfish?" she repeated, and Harry nodded.

"Extremely selfish. I was mostly thinking about what _I _would do if you died, and I couldn't come up with anything that wasn't completely pathetic," he said honestly. She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Does that mean you're not going to start shouting at me for lying to you for so long?" she asked hopefully, and Harry grinned.

"I think we've both had enough of that. I still firmly believe we have some serious issues with communication, but we can work on that, can't we?" Ginny stared at him for a moment, shocked, before the brilliant smile Harry loved the most spread on her face.

"Wow. I was expecting to have to beg for weeks before you would even consider trying again. Are you sure you're willing to let it go so easily?" She was still smiling radiantly, but there was a note of hesitancy in her tones.

"Well, I've thought about it a lot, and I definitely preferred this option. Ask Hermione, she'll tell you I'm hopelessly addicted to you," Harry assured her, and her smile turned to a smirk.

"Addicted, eh?" she asked, and Harry nodded again, his grin widening.

"Her word, not mine. I think 'in love' sounds a bit healthier," he retorted, and was rewarded with her musical laughter.

"I love you, too," she told him softly, and Harry finally reached to take her hand in his.

There was a while of comfortable silence that Harry broke.

"Has anyone started looking for the cameras in our flats?" he asked, and Ginny shook her head.

"They've focused on Andromeda's, since she and Teddy were the only ones who have needed their home right now. We've been here, so your colleagues didn't think our places were a priority," she replied. Harry nodded, thoughtful. He had been expecting that response, and it only enforced the decision he had subconsciously come to days before, back when he was forced to leave his flat.

"I don't think I'll go back there. It won't feel much like home, since I'll always know Fenwick was watching me there for years," he said quietly. "I was thinking of moving permanently to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher would like it."

"Yeah, it sounds like a good idea. You'd have more room, too," agreed Ginny, nodding along. Her words gave him an idea; perhaps he was mad to even think of it, but he wanted to try it, nonetheless.

"You're right, it is a lot bigger place. I might get lonely. Do you reckon you could move there with me?" He was glad he sounded somewhat casual, even though he was a nervous wreck. It may have been too soon to suggest it, but the way he saw it, they had wasted two years as it was. What was the point in going slow, when they had never really been able to do it before?

Ginny was silent and still for such a long time Harry was getting worried; or perhaps it only felt so long because he was waiting for a response. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of uncertainty to him, she smiled.

"Yeah, of course. I would be a very poor girlfriend if I let you get too lonely, wouldn't I?"


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Harry,_

_I know I promised not to leave the house, but they're threatening to hurt Andromeda and will go after Teddy next, and I know neither of us wants that. You were right when you said I should have never lied to you. I should have asked for help immediately, and if I had, maybe we could have avoided all this. Let me atone for my mistakes now and do this one thing right, please?_

_It's been fairly obvious that they're after you. They probably will blackmail you, but don't turn yourself in, Harry. I know I have no right to ask that of you, but don't do it; it's not worth your life._

_I'm so sorry I had to break my word again. Can you tell the others that I'm sorry? I really had no choice._

_Ginny_

x-x

"Yes, that's good, and remember to hold on tight, okay? Now, when you want to get going, lean forward – but only a little at first, you need to get the feel of it –"

"Harry, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the party?"

"Oh, Hermione, hi. Teddy's having a flying lesson." Harry reluctantly turned around to face his friend after she had interrupted him. He didn't let go of Teddy's shoulder, though; he kept a firm grip, as Teddy was hovering in the air on Harry's old Firebolt. The broom was a little too fast for a four-year-old, but Harry reckoned it was the best he had to offer; he had another one, too, but that was newer and faster, and he needed it for himself in case Teddy got too excited and forgot his instructions.

"You're teaching him to fly on the same day Molly's holding your birthday party?" asked Hermione, in tones that weren't surprised or accusing at all, but gentle instead. She knew him too well.

"The party looked like it would go on without us," replied Harry with a casual shrug. "Listen, I'll take Teddy in the air for a while and talk to you then, if that's all right with you?"

At Hermione's nod, Harry turned back to his godson and started the commentary again. Fifteen minutes later, he and Teddy were landing next to Hermione.

"That was really good for a first time, Teddy! I think you're a natural," praised Harry, ruffling the bright yellow hair of the excited little boy after Teddy was safely off the broom. "Now, what do you reckon, should we go back to the party? Your grandmother would probably like to make sure you didn't fall off."

Teddy's wide grin didn't diminish in the slightest when he handed the Firebolt back to Harry and started skipping back towards the Burrow, well ahead of the adults.

"Teddy, slow down a little or you'll be out of sight!" Harry called out, quickly going after him, and Teddy gave his godfather a sheepish smile before slowing his pace to a bouncing walk. Next to Harry, Hermione smiled.

"You and Andromeda are really careful with him these days," she remarked. "We're inside the wards now, and he knows not to go too far from you."

"Well, yeah, I think I've had enough of putting him in danger, and it would kill Andromeda if anything happened to him. You've seen how she's been after the whole ordeal with Fenwick," said Harry, shaking his head slightly. Andromeda's obsessive behaviour would worry him if he wasn't inclined to do the same: anywhere she and Teddy went, Andromeda would constantly be looking over her shoulder. She would let her grandson go nowhere without her unless Harry was with him. It wasn't good for her to feel so stressed constantly, but Harry didn't know what to say to put her mind at ease.

No matter where he was or who he was with, he was watching his surroundings. It had been ingrained to him before, but it had grown worse, and now he found himself aware of everything around him, all the time. When he had been declared healthy and fit to work again, a month after Fenwick's arrest, he had even considered getting a hipflask for a brief second - at least until he realised he was acting a little too much like Mad-Eye Moody. The tension wouldn't leave him, however, and he compulsively kept an eye on everything. It was even worse whenever he was with Teddy.

"You know, you would make a wonderful father, Harry," said Hermione with a soft smile. Harry let out a strained laugh. "No, really. You're great with Teddy."

"It doesn't mean I'd do well with having children of my own. Besides, I'd need to have someone to have them with," retorted Harry, eliciting a sigh from his friend.

"People are talking about the fact that Ginny hasn't got a ring. It's practically public information that you were going to propose before she left," she said, shaking her head. "I think it's a small miracle you're even living together."

"She's still Ginny." Harry's voice took on a defensive edge even though he didn't mean to defend anything. Hermione wasn't attacking him, after all. "I mean, I suppose it's a big step to instantly ask her to move in with me, but she's still the woman I thought I'd marry. We haven't really changed, and we love each other and all, we just need to work through... a few things. It's easier if we're in the same house while we do it. And I think everyone knows we're not about to give up - she went through all what she did for me, and even that wouldn't drive me away, so..."

"You just need to really learn to trust her again and she needs to believe she's forgiven." Hermione knew them too well.

"Yeah. Besides, I can't give her a ring when I haven't got one," muttered Harry, fixing his gaze on Teddy's back to avoid seeing Hermione's expression. Her faint gasp said enough.

"You said you couldn't bring yourself to get rid of the ring! What happened?" Hermione sounded aghast, and it strengthened Harry's resolve not to look at her.

"Fenwick. You know how Ginny left me notes in the box where I kept it? Well, he read the notes and decided not to take them, but he did take the ring. I suppose that was another message from him. He wanted me to know he'd seen them all, and perhaps he thought that was one more way to hurt me," he replied. "I don't really mind, though. I'll just get another one if I need it."

Hermione was quiet for a short moment, and apparently decided to change the subject.

"You didn't tell me why you chose to give Teddy a flying lesson now," she said, prodding gently. "The Weasleys are trying to apologise and you disappeared."

"They don't need to throw me a party to apologise," retorted Harry shortly.

"You won't let them say they're sorry or do anything else. They're running out of ideas," Hermione pointed out, and Harry shrugged.

"They don't need to apologise. They're her family. If she breaks up with me, they shouldn't feel bad for not taking my side," he told her. Quite honestly, he was surprised this was the first time Hermione had brought it up, seeing that he had been denying all attempts of apologies ever since he had woken up in St. Mungo's.

"They feel bad for having taken sides in the first place. This is just hurting people, Harry. Let them do it if it means so much to them, please," she asked, and Harry was finding it hard to tell her no, although he very much wanted to.

He had come to think of the Weasleys as his family, too. He had thought they were close enough, and yet when Ginny left him, even if she assured everyone multiple times that it wasn't because of Harry, they had cast him out. Some had done it faster and smoother than others, and in the end Ron and George had been the only ones who were still friends with him. Yes, he had felt hurt and betrayed, but he didn't want apologies. He wanted to move on and forget it and try to learn from it.

The Weasleys didn't see it that way, and at first Harry had just wanted to stick to his rule of no asking for forgiveness. Then it had turned into some sort of a game for the brothers, and Harry didn't find it amusing at all. When it had gone on for a few days, he wouldn't let them say they were sorry because he didn't know what he would have said in response. Molly and Arthur had long since been absolved, but they still felt the need to somehow make it all up to him, and that, too, was getting tiresome.

A part of him was still resentful, even more so after Fenwick had been arrested and Ginny had moved in with him. The man who had started it all was locked up and that hadn't made him feel any better, and Harry knew it would be counterproductive to give his girlfriend the silent treatment. He couldn't take his frustrations out on men who were in prison, and he knew from experience that he couldn't properly function without Ginny, so it only left him Bill, Charlie and Percy. It was childish, and against most of his principles, but he was taking it out on them anyway, even if it was just by not letting them apologise.

"I know I'm being a git," was his only response to his friend, and Hermione seemed to notice he wasn't promising to play nice. She sighed again and shot him an exasperated look, but didn't say anything as they were now within Teddy's hearing range. The little boy had stopped to wait for his godfather right by the Weasleys' garden. Harry smiled, but the expression froze on his face: Ginny was standing right next to Teddy. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but her stance wasn't angry. It was more like that of an unsure person attempting to form a shield with her arms, or someone who was cold and trying to keep from shivering.

The thing that struck Harry the most, however, was the look on her face. The corners of her mouth were turned slightly upwards in a soft smile, but her eyes were sad. She seemed exhausted.

Gently but firmly, Harry ushered Teddy and Hermione to go on without him. It appeared that he would need a little time alone with Ginny.

"I was wondering where you were," said Ginny, keeping her voice at a low murmur. Harry stepped closer instinctively; he wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to be sure he heard her, or only because he wanted to be closer. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

"I was with Teddy," replied Harry, mimicking her and keeping his voice down. "Flying. I'm sorry I didn't say I was going."

"Nah, it's okay. To be honest, I think Ron and I were the only ones who noticed. I suppose it attracted Ron's attention mostly because Hermione went looking for you," said Ginny, and now her smile had a tint of amusement in it. "No offence, but you haven't been the life of the party lately. Even I thought you'd just gone inside for a moment until Hermione disappeared."

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, and he meant it. Seeing Ginny almost downtrodden because he had left for half an hour brought out a tightening in his chest. He recognised the feeling as guilt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too. And I can keep repeating that, but it doesn't feel like it's making much of a difference. You say you've forgiven me and you really try to act like it, as well, but I'd rather have you taking it out on me than my brothers. I'd at least deserve it." Ginny's resigned tones were a bigger blow to Harry than the actual words, although they did sting. Combined with her tired appearance, the tone of her voice made Ginny seem defeated.

Something told Harry that his way of dealing with the mess his life had been had made that happen to her.

As gently as he could in his state of mind, he put his hands on Ginny's shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Wrapping an arm around her back, he tried to come up with the right words. What the hell could he say to make this better? How could he explain it?

"You don't deserve it," he finally said. "You did what you felt was right and needed in order to save my life, so there's nothing to forgive, but you already know that - I've told you a hundred times. Your brothers don't need to constantly act repentant, either, because I've always known you're their first priority, and that's how it should be. I'm really not angry."

"Then why are you acting like this?" Ginny's voice had a hint of desperation in it, and Harry bit back a curse. He was getting angry with himself now. He should have explained all this earlier. They had had plenty of serious talks lately, but this hadn't really been brought up.

"Because I'm scared," he answered honestly, and he could almost feel Ginny's confusion, even though he couldn't see her face. He would've had to let go of her in order to read her expressions, and in light of that, it didn't seem so important. "Bloody hell, Ginny, I lost you for almost two years because one man was holding a grudge, and then I had to watch as he was killing you. Do you know how many bitter people are out there? I'm looking over my shoulder now anywhere I go, and it's exhausting. I can't relax even in here, and it just gets worse around Bill, Charlie and Percy. They get too close. I snap easier these days, and I'll probably need a little more breathing room for a while, but I'll behave, all right? I promise."

Ginny nodded, and with a kiss on her temple, Harry loosened his hold on her. He still kept an arm around her shoulders as they rejoined the party and didn't let go for the rest of the night. It was easy to see the tension slowly ebbing away from her, and in no time she was joking and laughing with her family and the friends they had invited. Harry, too, participated actively in conversations, even with Ginny's eldest brothers.

They cornered Harry – and Ginny as well – after he had spoken with Andromeda and assured her that Teddy hadn't been harmed at all during the flying lesson. When Andromeda had made Harry promise not to take Teddy out for another session if she wasn't present, Bill was suddenly tapping on Harry's shoulder.

"It's good to see you two attached at the hip again," joked Bill, talking about the way Harry and Ginny both had an arm wrapped around the other. "That's a sight we've all missed lately."

"Have you got a minute, Harry?" Charlie was there, too, and they wouldn't let Harry get a word in edgewise before Bill launched into a speech. Considering Harry's previous tactics, it was a probably good idea.

"Listen, we're sorry, okay?" Bill blurted the words out quickly, as if he was afraid Harry would cut in and escape. "You've been Ron's best friend for years; you've got him into a lot of trouble but out of a lot, too. You've saved Ginny's life, and our Dad's, and you helped Fred and George with the joke shop. We know many good things have happened to our family because of you, and we shouldn't have blamed you for anything. We're sorrier than you know, and you don't have to instantly forgive us, but it'd be nice if you stopped avoiding us, too."

Harry was, in a word, uncomfortable. A conversation like this was exactly what he had been trying to avoid, mostly because he felt the Weasleys were apologising for the wrong things. It was good to know they felt bad for casting him out, but if they regretted it because they thought they owed him something, Harry didn't want to hear it. After all, they weren't indebted to him in the slightest. He wasn't about to start ranting about that, though; Ginny's words were still fresh in his mind.

"Yeah, I know. I haven't really acted like an adult about this whole thing, have I? I've just thought that you don't need to say you're sorry. I know where you were coming from, and you certainly didn't owe me anything," he said with a smile he didn't even have to fake. If this would make Ginny feel better, then he was going to play nice. It wasn't a hardship; Bill and Charlie Weasley were very easy to get along with when they wanted to be.

For Harry, the conversation still had an uneasy undertone: he hadn't forgotten about the letter of complaint Robards had received when they were chasing Fenwick. However, Ginny's radiant smile, the one Harry had always loved the most, was more than enough to convince him to let it go. At least for now.

x-x

_Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was a mess. The windows were still boarded shut, even though the rest of the shops on Diagon Alley had reopened two weeks ago, and cobwebs and dust had taken over the entire ground floor. Harry wasn't interested in the ground floor, though. He was visiting George after Hermione's subtle prompting, and Harry only had to walk through the store to get to him._

_George's living quarters were in a better shape than the downstairs; it wasn't clean by any means, but at least the place didn't look completely desolate or abandoned. George himself was lying on a sofa, with his eyes shut and the Wireless blaring next to him. He had moved back a few days ago after having gone back to the Burrow for a while. He had claimed the Burrow had too many memories of Fred, but Harry didn't really see how the upstairs of the joke shop would be any better._

_Harry silenced the radio with a flick of his wand, and George sat up, startled, instinctively drawing out his wand._

_"Bloody hell, Harry, you gave me a scare! D'you have a death wish, or do you just like to sneak up on people?" asked George surly. Harry shrugged._

_"I didn't sneak up on you; I made a lot of noise walking up the stairs. You just didn't hear me," he replied. George lay back down as he was speaking._

_"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be hard at work? You can't have caught all the Death Eaters yet," said George after a moment of silence. Harry shrugged again._

_"Hermione said I should visit. I think she's getting worried about you," he said, sitting down on the arm chair next to the sofa. He glanced around; there was a window to his left, and this one was free of obstacles. The curtains were a cheery yellow, and contrasted violently with the purple of the walls. The sofa and the matching two arm chairs were green, and the table between the chairs was bright red. Harry had a feeling that the twins had decorated the place themselves and the choice of colours had been deliberate. A wry thought entered his mind - his Aunt Petunia would undoubtedly have a stroke if she ever saw a décor like this._

_"Hermione, eh? What's it to her?" asked George, and he seemed honestly curious._

_"I don't know if you've noticed, but she cares about Ron. She also considers you a friend, and Ron obviously cares about you, so taking care of you is a priority because it's taking care of Ron, too," explained Harry, trying to play it off as a no big deal. He wondered how Hermione had managed to talk him into this. He didn't know what to say. "And it is rather obvious you're not doing too great."_

_"In plain English, that means I'm so pathetic my baby brother's girlfriend thinks I need the Chosen One to get me out of my depression," said George dully. "Well, isn't that a cheering thought."_

_"I'm not here to tell you to cheer up," retorted Harry, and this visibly surprised George. "And you're not pathetic. You lost someone you cared about and that's always hard. I just came to keep you company. Trust me; it's not good for you to brood alone."_

_"I suppose you'd know all about that," remarked George with a snort, and Harry sighed. "Aren't you getting tired of dealing with grieving people? I heard you've been helping Andromeda Tonks deal with everything, too. How the hell do you have the time for everything? How do you even do it?"_

_This brought Harry up short – he couldn't very well tell George the truth and say he was feeling tremendously guilty over every life that had been lost because he hadn't turned himself in earlier. It was the guilt and his loyalty to the fallen that had driven Harry into accepting some sort of a fatherly role for little Teddy Lupin, and the same feelings had brought him to George today. He knew that, logically, it wasn't all his fault, but he couldn't look at all the people who were still openly weeping over lost family and friends without having to turn his head in shame._

_Dealing with his own sadness would have been enough._

_Harry decided that if he couldn't tell the whole truth, he could certainly tell part of it. This was a part George would more readily accept._

_"It's not like that. I'm hiding," said Harry, and George sat up again, incredulous. "Honestly, I am. I don't know if you've followed the news that much, but people are looking to me to tell them what to do, and asking me to help with everything. I can't do that. I mean, I'm seventeen years old, I haven't even finished Hogwarts, and we have a Minister for Magic who was an Auror and a member of the Order. How qualified am I, compared to Kingsley?"_

_"Harry, you're the Chosen Boy Who Lived. Of course they'll look to you first. Who wouldn't? The way you acted in the Great Hall, they probably think you hold all the answers now," explained George in tones that made it obvious Harry should already know this._

_"Yeah, but that's just it. I don't have the answers to every problem. I had a special advantage with Voldemort because I knew him so well. Hell, I'm in Auror _training _because the only reason I got rid of Riddle was my special advantage," replied Harry. George was quiet for a while, and then he hesitantly spoke up._

_"I know you just said you don't know everything, but I have to ask – you died, right? In the forest?" he asked, and Harry nodded slowly. "How was it? I mean – did you see... anyone?"_

_"If you're asking me if I spoke with Fred, then the answer's no," answered Harry quietly. "It didn't hurt, if that makes you feel any better. And everything doesn't end when your heart stops beating."_

_"So I'll see him again, then?" asked George, blinking rapidly to keep from crying._

_"You will. And you're not alone now, you know. Those who love us never really leave us," said Harry, quoting Dumbledore because he knew the man had been right. There was another long pause in the conversation before George stood up and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand._

_"Right. Since you're in here hiding, you might as well make yourself useful. I think I'll need help clearing up downstairs," he said, and led the way to the shop. Harry knew George was far from feeling all right, but he couldn't help thinking that this was a giant leap forward._

x-x

"Ginny? Are you home?" It was the week after Harry's birthday, and he had just returned home from work. At six o'clock, Ginny should have already been there, although she was having a busy week too, as she had a match the following weekend. She wasn't, but there was someone else in his kitchen – Harry was quite surprised to find George reading the Daily Prophet and sipping on a cup of tea.

A glance around the room revealed Kreacher standing by the stove. At least that explained the tea, Harry mused.

"Hi, Harry. I needed to talk to you and Ginny let me in. She said you'd be here any minute now. I'm sorry for the unpleasant surprise," said George, folding away the newspaper. Harry grinned at his friend.

"A visit from you is never an unpleasant surprise," he replied, sitting down opposite the redhead. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"See, Harry, that is the unpleasant part," answered George seriously. "Kreacher made tea, you should have some. It's really good."

Harry knew that when George was serious and said the conversation would be unpleasant, he wouldn't like it, but he still couldn't help laughing.

"Is that a Weasley thing? The tea?" he asked, chuckling as he got up to go get a mug for himself; Kreacher had beat him to it and was already holding a cup full of steaming Earl Grey up to him, beaming. Harry accepted the cup with a thanks and a grateful smile to his House Elf. "So tell me, what is it that you want to talk about?"

"Actually, a few things. Hermione kind of put me up to it," said George with a sheepish look. "I mean, I've been meaning to bring it up for a while, but I didn't think there was any real need to tell you about it. I thought you already knew."

"All right, I'm certainly paying attention now," remarked Harry slowly, hating the feeling of dread that was creeping into him.

"I've heard you've been avoiding the rest of my brothers. I thought it was just because of how they've been treating you for a while, but then Hermione told me you have more reasons for it," George said, and Harry now knew what it was about – the letter of complaint. Well, he had known he wouldn't like the conversation, anyway.

"Why?" Harry didn't need to ask if George had written the letter, as the redhead was obviously confessing, so he cut to the chase.

He gripped his mug tighter, trying to reign in his hurt and anger. This was almost worse than the estrangement from the rest of the Weasleys that had lasted over a year; George was his friend, one of the closest friends Harry had. George knew how important being an Auror was to Harry; he knew it had been the only thing that had kept Harry somewhat sane.

"First, let me clarify – I didn't complain about you," said George quickly, "I just commented on you having to be so close to Ginny. And, all right, perhaps it was a complaint, but it certainly wasn't about anything you were doing, or because of you. I just – you were going mad. Being close to her was driving you up the wall, and you weren't really fit to work, anyway, because of the bloody injury that ended up almost killing you. So yeah, I contacted Robards and asked him if it was the best course of action."

Harry just sat and started at his friend. This changed things, didn't it? George had never been a truly malicious person. Harry honestly had been about to go insane, thanks to Ginny and her tricks. And George was one of his closest friends. He could hold a grudge against Percy, Charlie and Bill, but this was _George_.

"And I should have told you earlier, but lately you've been a little... out of reach? I mean, you've been busy, what with work, Ginny, Teddy, and avoiding the most of my brothers. I'm sorry I did the whole thing. I should have known you'd be able to handle it," continued George, all the more nervous now that Harry wasn't saying anything.

Harry was still trying to digest it. It had never, not once, even crossed his mind that it might have been this particular Weasley behind the complaint. Or that it wasn't really a complaint. Robards had said that one of the Weasleys had "complained about the arrangement", and with the situation being what it was, Harry had taken it to be a complaint about himself. His assumptions had been inaccurate, and it threw him off his balance.

He had already taken out too much of his frustrations on the three eldest of George's brothers, and apparently, he had had even less of a right to do it than he had originally thought. And wasn't he the man who had offered Voldemort a chance for remorse? Hell, he'd forgiven Ginny. Besides, this was _George_.

"All right," said Harry finally, and George seemed relieved that Harry wasn't completely catatonic. "Thank you."

The stunned look on the redhead's face was amusing, and Harry tried hard to keep his expression somewhat blank.

"W-what?" It wasn't often that George Weasley was caught by such a surprise that he was reduced to stuttering, and now Harry lost the battle he was fighting with himself - the smile broke out on his face.

"Thank you," he repeated. "You were absolutely right; I would've lost my marbles if it'd gone on any longer than it did. It's nice to hear someone other than Ron and Hermione noticed. Though I completely agree on that you could have told me earlier, because now I owe your brothers an apology."

George still seemed pleasantly surprised, but he knew better than to argue, just giving his friend a grateful grin instead.

x-x

"Good lunch?"

For the first time that Harry could remember, he had entered his office actually whistling, and Ron was quick to pick up on it.

"Yeah, I was catching up with Bill," said Harry, shrugging nonchalantly as he sat down and propped his feet on his desk. The office was a cheerier sight these days; Harry's desk was now adorned with the pictures that belonged on it – of Teddy, Ginny, and his best friends – and the poster of the Harpies was now tacked back where it was supposed to be: in a place where Harry could see it, as well.

"Bill? Huh," said Ron, trying to act normal despite his obvious surprise. "And, uh, how did it go?"

"Good," replied Harry with a grin, and dug a box out of the pocket of his robes, tossing it to Ron. If he hadn't been shocked before, he certainly was now; his eyes were wide as saucers as he opened the small velvet box and saw the ring. "Bill visited my vault for me. That used to belong to my mother."

"Well, that's, uh..." Ron was at a loss for words, and Harry knew why. It didn't dampen his spirits in the least.

"Too much too soon?" he asked, his grin growing even wider while Ron was trying to find the right words, probably frightened of being unsupportive or angering Harry.

"Well, it's been five months, so not exactly, but... Are you sure?" Harry just nodded, and Ron shrugged, finally smiling, as well. "That's good enough for me."

"D'you think she'll say yes?" asked Harry after a moment of quiet. Ron snapped the box shut and threw it to Harry, who deftly caught it and put it back into his pocket.

"I know she will," Ron assured him, and now Harry's smile was so wide he was afraid his face would split in two.

"I suppose we'll see tonight," he commented, again with a shrug, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in his stomach.

Yes, indeed, thought Harry as he glanced at his watch, they would see in about six hours.


End file.
